Port in the storm
by rhapsodybree
Summary: Previously called "Love 101". Post '100'. Hotch reflects on his loss, his son and the uncertain future before him. A visit from Emily one night complicates things and changes their world forever. Prentiss/Hotch.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

Aaron Hotchner sat in the darkness of his apartment. He looked out the window – thought it might have been a wall – without a seeing anything, lost in his thoughts.

His head felt heavy and he was feeling raw.

Two weeks on, and Jack was still struggling to cope with the loss of his mother. For all that he seemed a relatively happy boy by day and around people, the nights were a different story.

The first night had been the worst: the little boy had stood in his bedroom doorway sobbing, big heaving sobs, tears running down his face uncontrollably as he stood there. 'I want my mom!'

He hadn't been in a deep sleep – sleep still not coming easily these days – and he'd shot up in bed instantly at his son's tears.

His heart had clenched at the cry, and he'd thrown back his sheets immediately. Leaving his bed, he swept his distraught son up into his arms.

Nothing he could do would console Jack and so he'd done the next best thing. Rocking his son backward and forward in his lap, he'd sat on the edge of the bed, pressing his lips to his son's fine hair as he held him close.

Jack's cries only stopped when he finally fell into an exhausted sleep.

His little boy's eyes were puffy and swollen, looking huge on his little face. After several long minutes of just staring, he'd stood to return him to his bed.

Jack had gripped his shirt in a death grip and refused to let go.

In the end, he'd slipped him into bed with him. Father and son took comfort from the other and slept fitfully together as they struggled the long, dark night through.

Breakfast the following morning – such a mundane thing in itself – had unwittingly caused pain. He'd reached for the cereal that Jack always ate, only to find that he wanted something different.

'I want toast and jam – just like Mummy did,' came the stubborn voice of his three year old.

His heart had clenched. He hadn't realised how hard it was going to be to keep his wife's promise.

It was a watery smile – but a smile nonetheless – as he looked at his son and spoke. 'Mummy did like her jam, didn't she?'

'I miss Mommy,' said Jack sadly as he reached for the bread. 'She won't be coming back will she?' he added.

Turning, he had seen the faint hope in his son's eyes. 'She won't be coming back,' he said gently.

Jack had nodded his head, resigned. 'I miss her.'

'Me too Jack,' he whispered, coming over to hug his son fiercely. 'Me too.'

On leave from work, he'd spent all the time with his son, learning about him all anew. Later, much later, he would be able to think that in his heartbreaking loss of his first love, he'd gained a son.

Pulling back to the present, and for the first time in a fortnight, his mind turned to the future. He was due back at work in the coming weeks and he was worried about how Jack was going to cope with him gone.

He got no further in his thoughts when Jack appeared in the lounge room doorway. 'Daddy?' came the fearful cry. 'I thought you was gone!'

Turning instantly to the distressed child he opened his arms. 'I'm right here Jack,' he responded, opening his arms. 'Come to Daddy.' It was an invitation that Jack promptly accepted and ran full pelt across the room.

Well used to turning to his father in the night, Jack burrowed himself into his father's chest, firmly fisting his small hands in the polo shirt and fell asleep once again, safe in his father's arms.

With his son firmly ensconced in his embrace, sleep was a long time coming for the older man.

* * *

_To be continued. _


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

**Author's Note: **Mature situation.

* * *

BAU's finest arrived home from a case out of state and entered the bullpen. JJ and Hotch were gone instantly – a far cry from the days long past when the boss and media liaison would be the first to arrive and last to leave.

Finishing up the last of her paperwork in the swiftly emptying bullpen, the sound of a phone ringing entered into the edge of Emily Prentiss' consciousness. Blocking out the noise, she shifted the three files before her into their respective piles.

Intent on the task, she startled when someone tapped her shoulder. Swinging in her chair, she faced a young woman who looked exceedingly nervous, hugging a clipboard to her chest. 'Ah ma'am? I think your phone is ringing.'

Opening her mouth to deny the statement, the ring tone most certainly not hers, she actually took a moment to listen to the persistent ringing for the first time. Whilst not hers, it did appear that the phone was in her near vicinity. Reaching for her jacket, she pulled forth the ringing offender and realised that it was Hotch's phone.

_How on earth had it ended up there? _

Smiling her thanks and dismissal to the young woman, she pressed Accept and held the phone to her ear. 'Hello?'

'Prentiss?' came the voice on the other end and she was momentarily confused. 'Hotch?'

'Yes,' came the voice of the phone owner. 'I take it that you have my phone.'

'That I do,' she laughed. 'Want me to swing by and drop it off on my way home?'

'If it's not too much hassle?' said Hotch carefully. 'I'd come and get it myself, but Jack's asleep.'

'It's fine,' she said, brushing off his worry. 'I'm on my way out now anyway.'

'Know where to go?'

'Sure do.'

Walking up the steps to Hotch's apartment half an hour later, she realised that the last time she had taken such a trek was when she had been searching for their missing boss. He'd been shot, courtesy of George Foyet.

Thankful that the only thing missing this time was a phone, she reached Hotch's door and gently knocked on the wood. There was no point in waking up young Jack Hotchner if she could avoid it.

The man that opened the door hadn't changed much in the few hours since she had last seen him – save the rolled up shirt sleeves, the tea towel he held in one hand and the toy in the other, sans jacket and tie.

He dropped the toy off to the side as he gestured for her to come in. She stayed where she was as she thrust her hand into her jacket pocket and brought forward the desired object. 'I won't keep you. I know you must be busy.'

His warm hand covered hers as he took his phone in hand. 'Thanks Emily.'

'You're welcome,' she said warmly, thrusting both hands into her pants, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

There was silence between them both before she made a move that surprised them both. Reaching one hand, she rested it against his cheek and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. 'Good night.'

Turning away, she didn't get very far as she found her hand captive. 'Stay.'

Looking at her trapped hand, she turned back. They both knew what he was asking. 'We really shouldn't...'

'I'm tired,' interrupted Hotch, his tone never changing.

'Well, I'll go so you can get some sleep,' she insisted, inching back.

'No Emily,' he said, tugging on her hand. 'I'm not _tired. _I'm tired of not feeling anything. I'm tired of always having to worry about if I'm doing the right thing by Jack. I'm tired of wondering if I'm going to make it through the day without cracking. I'm just so tired.'

Looking into his empty eyes, his tone never changing, her heart clenched. She realised that this was the closest that she had ever gotten – and dared to imagine that anyone had gotten – to Hotch sharing his feelings.

Taking one step forward, she opened her mouth, her mind full of all the useless things that she could say at this moment, none likely to make a difference. She never spoke one word – useless or not – as her lips were covered by those of Aaron Hotchner.

She felt the instant spark as he pressed against, probing. She granted his invitation and their tongues briefly duelled before they parted. She was surprised to find her arms around his neck. When had that happened?

Nothing moved as they both breathed heavily.

It was Emily that made the first move this time. Stepping in, she pressed her lips against his, pulling her body flush against his.

In the rush of the coming moments, the tea towel was discarded, door closed and Emily relieved of her jacket. Freeing buttons was the order of the day as they continued to kiss, edging down the hall to Hotch's bedroom.

She fell backward onto the bed, bouncing slightly as one more button on her blouse popped open of its own volition, exposing her black bra. Reaching up, she pulled Aaron down on her. He struggled to keep his weight off her as their mouths clashed together once again.

Neither cared as buttons went flying this way and that.

Hotch blessed the gods for a front clasp bra as he pulled the material back and his hands were filled with Emily's full breasts, his thumbs brushing her erect nipples.

Groaning under his ministrations, Emily refused to be idle as her hands sought out his belt. Wrestling with the buckle, she finally pulled it free. Her fingers popped the buttons and reached for the zipper in quick succession.

Hotch's own hands were busy as they slid down Emily's taut stomach and reached her pants. It was a simple matter of seconds before her own pants were free. Intent on goal, when Emily grasped his erect member with her hand, he bucked involuntarily and squeezed her hips. 'Gods,' he whispered.

Emily wasn't the only one struggling to find words. 'Protection,' she panted. Groaning, Hotch removed his hands from her body and reached into his bedside table. Scrabbling around, he came up with nothing. (Later he would marvel why he even bothered checking: he'd been celibate far too long to remember.) Turning back, he shook his head slightly at the semi-naked woman lying before him, her cheeks flushed and chest rising with each breath.

There was a long pause before dark haired woman made the decision. 'Fuck it,' she said pulling him down to her. 'I'm on the pill.'

Pants were summarily dispatched with. As he covered her body once again, naked flesh met naked flesh. Fingering her wet folds, she surprised him when their positions were reversed.

Flat on his back, Emily rose above him. They were both beyond rational thought as his hands gripped her hips and he guided her down onto his stiff member. He heard a groan and was surprised to find it coming from himself.

It had been far too long, and gods it felt good.

There was nothing so sexy as when Emily threw back head moments later, hair flaring out behind her as a groan came from her own throat, her hands pushing at his chest.

Both fighting for control, they found a rhythm. Her nails were scratching at his chest as his hands clasped her hips in a death grip.

Needing more, he flipped her in one smooth movement. Now on top, he eased back slightly and thrust forward again.

He groaned as his thrusts gained momentum and speed, Emily's nails digging into his back as she panted, encouraging him on.

He could feel himself getting closer to exploding, but he held onto his one last thread of sanity to ensure that Emily went over the brink with him.

Slipping his fingers between their sweat-soaked bodies, he rubbed his thumb across her sensitive nub. She was sensitive to his touch and responded instantly, arching as she squeezed him, wrapping her long legs around his waist.

He grasped her hands and held them above her head with his own as his eyes sought out hers, his pace slowing for a moment.

Something passed between them and it scared him.

He brushed it firmly to the side as he thrust forward once again.

Both were mindful of the need to be quiet, and Emily bit her bottom lip to stop herself from screaming. Hotch knew Emily's expressions well, and even though this was the first time that he'd seen her nearing her peak, he could tell the exact moment he sent her over.

He covered his mouth with hers as he gripped her hips, pumped into her tight channel twice more and then exploded.

When he came back to his senses, he realised that he was lying on Emily. Shifting his weight, it drew a moaned complaint from the woman beneath him.

Slipping from her, he sat up on the bed, running his hand over his face as everything seemed to be moving at a million miles a minute. He didn't know what he was feeling. All he knew was that was it – he was _feeling_. Operating as a robot with only Jack's well being in mind had taken its toll on him. He hadn't felt like this in a long time.

He felt ... alive?

'Aar - Hotch?' came the voice from him. If he could have seen out the back of his head, he would have seen Emily Prentiss reach out a hand, only to stop before it reached his back. She turned, interpreting his silence as a sign that he regretted what had just happened, leaving via the other side of the bed. 'I'm going to go.'

'Stay,' came the low voice, his eyes refusing to meet hers. The request had surprised even Hotch himself.

'Hotch...' she said warningly. 'It's not...'

'Please?' came the soft beg as he lifted his eyes to hers in the darkness.

'Oh Aaron,' she said, seeing the pain and tumultuous emotions now visible in his eyes. Stepping before him, she wrapped him in her arms and held him tight. She held him when the tears ran down his cheeks and he sobbed into her shoulder.

She didn't object as he pulled her back into bed, pulled her back tight against his chest and held onto her like there was no tomorrow. She was his port in the storm, for one night only.

This time when he slipped into her, he took it slowly and gently – playing with her, taking her to the edge and back – before he buried his head in her shoulder and they softly cried their mutual release.

As her eyes slipped close, Hotch still holding her firmly, Emily made a mental note to her internal clock. She needed to be up and out before the household – especially Jack – woke up.

When she opened her eyes next, she knew instinctively that her 'alarm' had failed. That and the little boy that stood before her.

Jack.

* * *

_Next chapter: _How does Jack react to finding a woman in his father's bed?


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

Standing in the small kitchenette off the bullpen, Emily Prentiss poured coffee into her mug from the pot short hours later. Her mind was half on the going ons around her and half on the incidents of this morning. And last night.

'Hey Emily?' called Rossi, startling her from her haze. 'Seen Hotch?'

Wondering why they were asking her of all people, she swiftly suppressed the paranoia as she realised that it was a perfectly logical question. Gripping her mug, she turned to the older profiler ensuring there was a smile on her face. 'I haven't seen him here yet,' she responded, carefully wording her answer.

'Hotch's having problems at the day care,' came the voice of the newly arrived JJ. 'He said to say he'll be up soon.'

Rossi nodded his head and approached the media liaison. Watching the two of them beginning an intense conversation, Emily stayed where she was, slowly sipping her morning brew, the caffeine vital after last night's activities. She was almost done when sure enough, Hotch walked through the glass doors.

He was distracted when JJ asked him how he went in settling Jack. 'Fine,' he responded, his eyes searching the room. The blonde haired woman nodded at his short response and headed for her office.

'You're looking different today sir,' called Reid from his desk, gaining Hotch's attention next. 'Is the therapy finally working?'

'I tried alternative therapy,' responded Hotch, his tone deadpan as the young genius nodded in interest. 'It worked.'

Emily choked on her last dredge of the coffee. _Did he just make a joke?_

Her bodily function had alerted him to her presence and minutes later Hotch put an evasive end to Reid's prying on what therapy he had undertaken and made his way over.

Filling her own mug once again, she poured another cup of coffee as the man she had seen a considerable amount of these past 24 hours – and in varying stages of undress – stepped up to her side. He smiled his thanks as she handed him the mug.

She could see that the stress and weariness was still there as he took a sip, but she could also see something else in his eyes: the cold, hard glint of motivation that had been missing these past few weeks was back. 'How's Jack?' she asked softly.

Hotch nodded, back against the bench, eyes surveying the bullpen before them as he answered. 'I'm working on it.' He took another sip before he spoke again. 'Sorry about this morning. I didn't expect him to react that way.'

Emily winced in remembrance. The little boy had not taken to the presence of her in his father's bed very well, screaming out 'Daddy!' at the top of his voice when she opened her eyes and saw him standing before her.

She'd decided that the best thing that she could do was leave, and so she'd dressed as quickly as she could and left the newly awoken Hotch to deal with his angry and confused son. She'd slipped from the apartment in the cold grey dawn, heading home for a shower before coming to work.

Shaking her head, she realised that she didn't blame the little boy one bit. 'It's to be expected,' she told the tense man beside her. 'Jack's just lost his mother and it's only normal that he doesn't want anyone with you. He doesn't want to lose another parent.'

Hotch nodded heavily. 'What happened last night...' he started to say.

'Never happened,' promised Emily with a forced smile.

'I don't want you to think I was using you,' said Hotch, finally turning to Emily, his eyes showing his concern.

'I don't think that,' she reassured him. 'After all, you didn't see me objecting did you?'

There was a small movement as Hotch smirked – almost imperceptible. 'No.' She flushed as he saw the momentary heat in his dark eyes. 'Maybe if it was another time and another place, we could, but...'

'It's okay,' she interrupted, not wanting to go down this road herself. 'It's the wrong time.'

'Thank you,' said Hotch, heartfelt, squeezing her arm. 'I ...' He was at a loss for words.

'I'm still here if you want to talk,' she said softly. 'You don't need to shut me out,' she promised. 'I'm here if you need me.'

'Thanks Em.'

Their quiet, private conversation came to an end when the voice of Derek Morgan sounded across the room. 'Team meeting in 10,' called the agent from the balcony. As the team made a scramble for their respective desks, the dark skinned man added one last thing. 'And don't forget the annual medical checks are coming up soon.'

There was a resounding groan.

* * *

_Next chapter: _Their decision that 'it never happened' was not to be.


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

**Author's Note: **My, what a clue-y bunch of reviewers I have for this story! (grin)

* * *

Emily Prentiss pulled her hair back into a ponytail with a quick efficiency. Task complete, she took the proffered bullet proof vest from the local officer with a smile of thanks.

Amidst the hustle bustle of preparing to enter into the residence where they suspected their UnSub was holding his sixth victim, she almost didn't hear her mobile ringing. Struggling to hear the tone over the chaos, she loosely threw on her vest, buckles remaining unclasped as she reached for her phone.

Stepping away from the noise, she raised her mobile to her ear. Struggling to hear, she raised a finger to block out her other ear. 'I'm sorry, could you repeat that?'

'Yes this is SSA Emily Prentiss speaking. Who is this?'

'Admin?' she repeated. 'Could this wait until ... ?'

'Fine, tell me quick.'

'What?' she whispered.

She heard the repeated enquiries on the other end of the line as she struggled with what she had just been told, but for the life of her, she couldn't bring herself to respond.

'Come on Prentiss,' came a loud voice nearby, shattering her from her shock. 'Let's move,' ordered Morgan as he passed her, fixing his earpiece.

She gaped uselessly, still failing to form words to communicate as Aaron Hotchner himself was suddenly behind her and buckling her bullet proof vest as she continued to hold the phone to her ear.

She was patted on the back before he stepped away. Watching him walk from her, she swallowed and snapped out of her funk. 'I've got to go,' she managed to gasp out into the phone, ending the call and cutting off her protesting caller.

Placing the phone in her pocket, she made her way over to where the team was gathered. Morgan noted her arrival with a brisk nod. 'Good you're here.' Turning his attention to everyone, he began to bark orders. 'Prentiss, take the front. Rossi and Reid, you're out back. Hotch...'

Listening to Morgan reel off other instructions, the newness of what she had just been told struck her suddenly and she realised that she couldn't do this entry. A, she now had someone else to think of and B, her head was nowhere where is should be to take down an UnSub. 'I'm not going in,' she interrupted, her mind reeling.

'What do you mean you're not going in?' demanded Morgan, his face thunderous at her declination as the others flashed her concerned looks.

_What could she say?_ 'I can't,' she faltered.

Morgan eyed her before he sighed. 'Fine, man the radio.'

She ignored the strange looks as she backed away and unbuckled her vest. Pulling it free, she threw it onto the ground as she watched the team move off.

There was very little time for her to process what she had just discovered as the team's entry was instantly successful and she was required.

Responding to Rossi's urgent hand gesture, she stepped forward to take custody of Sara Knapper. Guiding her over to the waiting ambulance, she looked over the distraught victim's shoulder to where Hotch and Morgan were fighting to bring forth their UnSub, the heavily built man refusing to cooperate, lashing out at every opportunity.

It wasn't until she was back at the local police station later on cleaning up duty that the reality of her new situation hit her front and centre. She was _pregnant_.

By Aaron Hotchner no less.

Standing before the whiteboard in the conference room, one hand hovered over a magnet as she marvelled that she didn't _feel _pregnant.

She startled when JJ stepped into the room. 'Are you okay Emily?' asked the media liaison. 'You looked like you were miles away.'

'Fine,' responded Emily with a smile, placing the photos and papers in her hands into a box. 'I was just thinking.'

'You sure?' pressed the young woman, picking up a stack of papers herself.

'I'm sure,' Emily reassured her friend. She wasn't quite ready to share this news with anyone just yet and changed the topic of conversation swiftly. 'Interview done yet?'

JJ nodded. 'Hotch' - her heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name - 'just broke him. He's confessing now.'

She nodded her head, not trusting herself to speak as she turned back to the whiteboard, pulling off the remaining documents quickly. She ignored the two magnets that took to the air and rolled along the ground toward the corners.

JJ may have said something else, but all she caught was the last sentence. 'Wheels up in three hours.'

* * *

As they made their way home later that night, Emily made sure to take the sole seat in the back corner, as far away from the team as was possible. She didn't feel like talking with anyone tonight.

Unfortunately, her solitude came at a price: when Mother Nature called, she had to walk past everyone to reach the toilet at the other end of the plane.

Most were asleep as she eased up from her chair. JJ and Morgan sat opposite each other, Reid was curled up in the corner of the low couch and Rossi's head dropped onto his chest from his position opposite the wide awake Hotch.

Quietly making her move down the narrow corridor between the seats, she had no chance to steady herself when the plane suddenly dipped slightly to the side. Her balance shot, she pitched forward to one of only two people awake.

Hotch startled when his preoccupation with looking through photos of his son was interrupted by a woman falling into his lap. Holding onto the phone to prevent the device from flying, he stretched his hands out to steady Emily's balance. 'You okay?' he asked the flushed woman now inches from his face.

'Just dandy,' came the muttered response as Emily Prentiss scrambled up and out of Aaron Hotchner's lap.

'Emily?' asked Hotch, confusion on his face at her abrupt answer.

'It's nothing,' was the response as the dark haired woman furiously straightened her clothes. He wanted to push it further – ask why she had backed away earlier and isolated herself – but he didn't get a chance as the infuriating woman backed away again and moved past him.

'Nothing,' snorted Emily to herself as she pulled open the small door to the plane ablutions.

Nothing _much_.

* * *

_Next chapter:_ Nightmares.


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

_She was in the back seat of the car with JJ. Morgan and Rossi were seated up front. All were listening to the phone. _

_The voices of Aaron Hotchner and George Foyet echoed in the enclosed space. _

_She knew where this conversation was going. Too many times had it played in her head. She didn't need to hear it again. _

_Her rebellion was pointless. _

_She knew what was coming next. Her dream self turned to JJ in horror and then it all changed._

_She was in the house now, walking up the stairs. Each foot felt heavy to lift and place. It was heavier each time she stepped up, but she never got any closer._

_Taking the opportunity to rest her weary self, the top of the stairs so far away, she leaned against the wall. _

_And was promptly swallowed up into darkness._

_This time she was lying on the floor. She saw Morgan standing over her. Hotch, Rossi, Reid. But no one would look at her._

_Shouting out, no one heard her. The faces blurred and became one. Suddenly the wild-eyed grinning madness of George Foyet materialised before her._

_The room shifted and she was standing now. She raised invisible hands to defend herself before she saw that he wasn't looking at her._

_Turning in the blink of an eye, she saw Hotch standing there – immobile and stoic. 'Move!' her mind screamed. 'Fight!'_

_It fell on deaf ears as the gun rose._

_She tried to fight with arms that wouldn't move. Unable to do anything, she released a silent scream._

_Bang._

_Bang._

Bang.

Emily Prentiss flew up in bed, sweat drenching her clothes. Looking around wildly, every sense on alert, it took her a moment to realise that it was all a dream.

The gunshot still sounding in her ears, nausea built up within her. Blame it on the nightmare or the pregnancy, either way she threw back her sheets and ran for the bathroom.

When there was nothing left to bring up, she leaned back against the cool tiles of her bathroom walls, tears running down her face.

This was the third night in a row that she'd had these dreams – sick twisted nightmares that seemed so real and all ended with Aaron Hotchner about to die. Composing herself, she stood up on shaky knees. Gripping the basin, she refused to look at herself in the mirror.

Leaving the bathroom, her eyes averted the bed. Just the thought of lying down once again and hearing the ominous bang again had her retching. Firmly pushing down the desire to be sick, she left the room.

There would be no more sleep tonight.

After managing to get down the stairs without tripping and tumbling headfirst, she braced herself against the kitchen counter and she took a deep breath.

She couldn't keep this to herself for much longer.

Moving to her cupboards, she reached for a glass. Pulling it free, it promptly slipped from her grasp and shattered in the kitchen sink below. She blinked slowly and it was a long minute before she realised that the glass was broken.

She felt nothing as she stepped back gingerly and reached for her bin. Picking up the large pieces, she placed them into the garbage and turned the water on to wash down the little pieces. Her mind was hypnotised by the swirling motions. It had been three days since she discovered she was pregnant, and three nights of nightmares.

Guess this was the universe telling her it was time to share.

Snapping back to the present, she turned off the tap and placed the bin back in its place. Somewhere at the back of her mind she thanked her good fortune that she had managed to avert major disaster by avoiding cutting herself.

Taking a seat on her couch, she wrapped a blanket tightly around her shoulders as she stared out her window and out onto the city lights. Gripping a plastic bottle in her lax hands, her mind wandered.

Tomorrow, she promised herself. She'd tell Hotch tomorrow.

* * *

Two days later Emily Prentiss knocked on Aaron Hotchner's office door with a degree of confidence that she most certainly did not feel.

'Come in,' came the crisp order.' Slipping into the room, she saw Hotch standing at his desk, briefcase open before him. Pressing the door closed, she drew strength from the firm wood as she pushed off and turned.

'Prentiss!' said Hotch when he looked up and realised who had just entered his office. His tone turned to concern when Emily came to stand before his desk. 'Are you okay? You don't look too good.'

_Countless sleep-interrupted nights will do that to you_, her tired brain retorted.

'I'm fine,' she said, brushing off his concern. 'Do you have a minute?'

Hotch's eyes flicked to the clock. 'Could it wait?' he asked. 'I've got to pick up Jack from daycare.'

She took a deep breath and shook her head. 'I need to do this now before I chicken out.'

'Chicken out on what?' he asked, bemusement on his face.

She took another deep breath, this one a little shakier than the first and clasped her hands behind her back. _I am so not ready for this. _It was his careful question of 'Emily?' that had her eyes finally meeting his. 'I'm pregnant,' she blurted out.

He fell into his chair with a solid thump. Hearing no words, she found that in this nervous situation, her brain's first instinct was to talk and break this uncomfortable silence. 'I know that this wasn't planned, and god knows you don't need another thing screwing with your life, but...' The need to breathe had her trailing off, but silence still prevailed and she pushed on. 'I understand if you want nothing to do with me or this child, but I just thought that you should know.'

He spoke now, his voice low. 'You thought I would have nothing to do with you?' He laughed harshly. 'I don't abandon my duties.'

'Right,' said Emily, deflated. 'Duties.'

'Em...' he groaned. 'I didn't mean it like that.'

'Sure you don't,' she shot back. 'Well, I'm sorry that this happened, but there's nothing we can do to change it.' She looked at him brokenly. 'I just thought you'd want to know.' She turned on her heel and made for the door.

She ignored his call.

She might have made a clean dash for it if she had been able to see past the tears as her fingers groped for the knob. Instead, his hand covered hers before he turned her around. Back against the door, she was trapped between Aaron Hotchner's arms which were firmly planted on either side of her head.

One hand came to rest on her cheek as he smoothed her tears away with his thumb. 'Emily,' he said softly as he looked deep into her eyes. 'I'm with you every step of the way,' he promised and – perhaps foolishly so – she believed him.

As he inched forward, she thought he was going to kiss her. Her breath hitched, but he backed off at the last minute. She could see the myriad of expressions running across his face. The last two – pain and fear – stayed as he ran a hand over his face and suddenly looked twice his age.

'God, Jack.'

* * *

_Next chapter:_ Walking the halls.


	6. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

Aaron Hotchner paced the worn carpet of the nondescript hotel in the Windy City with his phone to his ear. Reaching the end of the short hall, he turned around and made his way back past the rooms his teammates were asleep in.

He'd told Jack that he could call him whenever he wanted, whenever he needed – no matter what the hour or the time of day. Having said, he hadn't expected that he'd be receiving a phone call when it was near midnight at home.

'Does Aunty Jessica know you're calling me?' he asked evenly.

'No!' his son retorted. 'I don't need her help to make a call. I'm a big boy!'

'I know you're a big boy, but it's very late,' he rebuked gently. 'You should be in bed.'

'I can't sleep and I wanted to talk to you Daddy,' begged the little boy. 'Please.'

He acquiesced.

It wasn't surprising that Jack had called him. His displeasure at his out of state departure this afternoon had been overwhelmingly apparent. Leaving his son was never easy – even though he knew that he went to the next best place at Hailey's sister's – but this was the first time that Jack had begged him not to go.

Slipping down to the daycare before departure, Jack had wrapped his arms around his legs and begged him to stay. 'Don't go Daddy!' he pleaded.

'I need to go catch some bad guys,' he'd reasoned.

His son's grip on his legs had tightened. When he knelt down to his level, his son's arms shifted up to his chest, still gripping tightly. As he gazed into his little boy's eyes, he wondered, not for the first time, if he'd made the right decision to return to the BAU.

Jack had been very possessive of him since he'd discovered Emily in his bed two months ago, but he'd been even more so lately. He suspected that he knew something was up.

Jack had seen Emily once in the seven weeks between when they slept together and he found out he was going to be a father again. She'd stepped into the bullpen and once his son had spotted her, he'd tugged on his hand and declared it was time to go, pulling him away.

It hadn't been much better at Henry Jareau's birthday party last weekend.

Standing before the table laden with food, he was filling two plastic plates when Emily joined him. It was their first opportunity to be alone that afternoon, and he stopped serving long enough to look at her. 'How are you?' he asked, a loaded question.

Emily never had an opportunity to respond as Jack had suddenly appeared, pushing between them. His son reached for his plate, surveyed it and then picked up the two lettuce leaves in disgust. 'I don't like lettuce,' he declared. 'Yuck!'

'You don't?' he'd asked, wondering when he'd missed such a vital declaration. 'Since when?'

'Since now,' the boy replied stubbornly.

'One leaf,' negotiated Hotch.

Jack looked ready to object, then saw his father's warning look and sighed dramatically. 'One leaf.'

Placing the other on his own plate, Hotch was ordered to speed up by the three year old son. 'Hurry up Daddy!' he'd cried. His plate full, he was guided by a fistful of shirt that Jack held in his grip to a spot on the grass.

The best he could do was flash Emily an apologetic glance on his less than dignified way over.

Attempt two had come when he saw Emily break away from a conversation with Morgan and one of JJ's relatives and take a seat on one of the outdoor chairs on the small patio.

Seeing Jack happily chasing the toddling birthday boy, he made his own way over. Mostly shielded from prying eyes, he sat down next to her and ran a heavy hand up her back as she turned her face to him and smiled. 'You okay?'

It was another loaded question.

He'd managed to attend a doctor's appointment with her not long after they had found out she was expecting. Two weeks on, he had no new information apart from what he'd been told then: baby was the right size, mother was healthy and they could expect the arrival of baby Prentiss-Hotchner on December 3rd.

The universe seemed to be conspiring against them.: with work, life and other random events preventing any time together, there was still no one else who knew.

He left his reminiscing when Emily responded to his original question. 'Good,' she responded. 'We're all good.' He felt a flush of warmth in his chest.

When she followed her answer with a question about he was, he'd actually laughed. She grinned too before she offered him her fork. 'Cheese?'

Pulling the cube free, he popped it into his mouth as he spotted his son making his way over to him, intent and determination written all over his face. He loved his boy to bits, but he would really appreciate it if he could have just five minutes uninterrupted time with Emily.

'Daddy!' called Jack. Hotch sighed. Looks like his son was being possessive again. 'I need to go to the toilet!'

'Okay,' said Hotch. 'You know where it is.'

'I need you to come with me,' protested the little boy.

'You can do it yourself,' said Hotch. 'You're a big boy.'

Jack's eyes flicked to Emily before he faced his father once again. 'Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease?'

He exchanged a sorry smile with Emily and stood up to take care of his son.

At another point, he wasn't entirely sure what the reason was, but he'd been pulled away from Emily by Jack and he got no other opportunities that afternoon.

With this animosity prevalent, and time flying right by him – with a sinking sensation that he was barely hanging on – Jack still didn't know. He knew he couldn't put it off for much longer, but he was searching for the right moment.

Listening absentmindedly to his son rambling on as he was deep in his thoughts, his head shot up when he heard a cry. 'Hang on a second Jack,' he told his son as he moved to the noise. A second cry sounded from the door on his left, the noise easily making its way through the thin walls.

Was that coming from Prentiss' room?

Finishing his call with an I love you, go to sleep and a promise to call in the morning, Hotch hung up the phone and moved, banging on the door. 'Prentiss?' he shouted. 'Emily!'

Hearing no response, and the door remaining closed, Hotch reached for the master key card. Call him paranoid, but he'd had far too many close calls lately – as had his team – that he'd taken to speaking with management and acquiring an all access card at every hotel they stayed at.

He was glad for this when he opened the door. Automatically reaching for a gun that wasn't there, he scanned the room. Seeing no immediate danger, he shut the door and approached the bed where Emily was flailing about.

Calling her name made no difference as he got closer. Reaching forward, he grasped her shoulders firmly. 'Emily,' he said urgently, slipping to the bed as her movements became more erratic.

He wasn't prepared for the flying fists. One fist would have hit him squarely in the eye if he hadn't ducked and weaved at the right time. Instead, she glanced his cheek.

Taking possession of both flailing limbs, he cautiously shook her shoulders. 'Emily, wake up,' he ordered.

She was suddenly still before her eyes opened and she stared at him. There was no recognition before she gasped. 'You're alive?'

Flabbergasted, he nodded his head. 'Of course I'm alive. I'm right here.'

The next unexpected movement was when she threw herself into his arms and burst into tears. 'Em?' he asked in concern, even as he wrapped his arms firmly around her and pulled in tight. 'What's wrong sweetheart?' The endearment slipped out without him realising as he tucked her head under his chin.

He saw her struggle to compose herself as she pulled back soon after. He brushed her long hair from her face as she ceased her tears. 'You weren't supposed to see me when I'm like this.'

'Like this?' he asked incredulously. 'Just how many times has this happened?'

She refused to meet his eyes. 'A few.' She moved back away from him, gathering her sheets up as she leaned back against the backboard and looked off into the far corner of her small room. 'It's actually been about a week since my last one.' She laughed harshly. 'But of course, it had to happen tonight.'

'Why didn't you tell me?' he demanded to know.

'You have other more important things to worry about,' she said dismissively, her tired eyes turning to focus on him. 'I didn't want to burden you.'

His head was reeling as she moved and slipped from the bed on the other side. 'Where are you going?'

'I'm not sure yet,' she answered truthfully. 'Wherever nightmares aren't.' She reached for her jacket as Hotch pinned her eyes on her. 'Come back to bed.'

'Hotch,' she sighed. 'I won't sleep.'

'I'll stay.'

She looked at him incredulously. 'With me? But what about the others and...'

'I don't care,' he said shortly.

Faced with an option of facing the long hours til daylight alone in an unknown city or in Hotch's arms, her decision was glaringly obvious. Throwing her jacket away, she came back to bed. There were no words spoken as Hotch removed his dress pants and slipped in to bed with her.

As he pulled her unresisting body back against him, his hands came to naturally rest upon her still flat stomach and he placed his head next to hers. 'Do you realise that this is the first time that I've touched you since this all began?'

'Mm. And do you realise that this is the first time that I have ever cried so much?' Her voice was a little teary as she spoke. 'I've cried more in these last two and a half months than I have in my entire life.'

Both laughed softly at the revelations. Hotch pulled Emily closer as he spoke softly. 'I'm so sorry Em.'

'What for?' she asked in confusion, her mind already thinking furiously about what it could possibly be that he had to say to her.

'I know this hasn't been easy on you,' he said heavily. 'I always saw you as this strong woman who could get through everything – I have no doubt you can,' he corrected hastily when the woman in his arms tensed, 'but I've been putting this off for far too long.' Pressing a kiss to her neck, he held her close. 'Sleep. I'll protect you.'

It was Hotch who had the sleepless night.

He must have fallen asleep at one point though as the ringing tone of his mobile cut through the haze. Blearily noting the time as just after 5am, he identified the ring tone as Jack.

Pressing a kiss to his bedmate's temple in a move that felt perfectly natural, he extricated his limbs, slipped from the bed and reached for his phone. Answering softly, he scribbled a note on the complimentary notepad before slipping from the room.

Shutting the door, he came face to face with their resident genius. 'Hotch!' said Reid in surprise, his hair which way and that. 'What are you doing up?'

He was stumped momentarily before the voice in his ear reminded him. 'Jack,' he explained, pointing to his phone.

'Oh.'

The genius didn't miss much and as he trundled back to his own room, Hotch fervently hoped that the room he had just come from wouldn't register on Spencer's mind at all – or at least for a long, long time. Brushing aside the risk of being outed, he focused all his attention on his son.

'Hey Jack,' he said in a bright tone. 'I have something really important to tell you when I get home.'

'A secret?' asked the little boy excitedly.

He thought about it for a moment. 'It's a little bit like a secret.'

* * *

_Next chapter:_ Jack bolts.


	7. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

When Aaron Hotchner opened his apartment door to Emily Prentiss two days later, he smiled warmly as he pulled the door wider and gestured for her to enter. 'Hey.'

'Hey,' she repeated, dropping her bag to the floor. Turning back, she opened her mouth to speak.

She never got the words out as Jack rounded the wall and spotted the new arrival. The determined boy made his way over to his father and tugged on his jean pocket. 'What's she doing here?'

Eyeing Emily, he then dropped his voice to a loud whisper that could still be heard two doors down. 'You're supposed to tell me the secret tonight!'

Hotch bent down to Jack's level and placed his large hands on his son's small shoulders. 'She's part of the secret.'

'Oh.' He wasn't quite sure what to make of that.

'Jack,' said Hotch, turning his son and pulling him back against his chest. 'This is Emily Prentiss,' he said, a formal, personal introduction. 'We work together and we're really good friends.'

Uncertain of how to greet the three year old, Emily stretched out her hand for a shake, then allowed it to morph into an awkward wave. 'Hi Jack.'

'Hi,' said Jack warily. After a few seconds, the desire to know the secret momentarily overrode his uncertainty of the woman before him as he turned and stood between his father's knees, facing him once again. 'Can I have the secret now?'

Hotch and Emily shared a long look before Hotch faced his son. 'Sure.'

Picking up Jack into his arms, Hotch tried to decide on the best place for the 'secret' to be revealed. Dismissing the table, he headed for the lounge. He carefully placed Jack on the couch next to him as Emily took a seat opposite. Shifting to the edge of the couch to be between both, he prepared himself.

He wanted honesty to be the best approach – something that he hoped that Jack would learn from him – and so he started at the beginning. 'Do you remember when you woke up that morning and you found Emily sharing my bed with me?'

Jack nodded his head. 'She left really quick and you told me that Emily had stayed over to help you feel better.'

Emily startled. She hadn't realised that Hotch had said that.

Hotch refused to look at Emily as he continued to speak. 'That's right. I know that it was a bit of a shock to find her in my bed with me and you haven't really liked Emily since then have you?'

The little boy's eyes shifted to the fingers in his lap. 'No.'

Emily opened her mouth to speak, but Hotch shook his head. After a moment of looking at the fascinating things that were his fingers, Jack's eyes rose and met his father's once again. 'I just don't want her to be with you. You're my Daddy, not hers.'

Hotch nodded his head. 'That's right. I'm your Daddy, Jack.' He took a moment to think about his next words. 'And soon someone else is going to have me as a Daddy too.'

'What do you mean?' asked Jack in confusion. 'I'm the only one that gets to call you Daddy.'

'Jack,' said Hotch, reaching out for his son. 'Emily is going to have a baby. And I'll be that baby's Daddy too.' His eyes were scanning his son as he elaborated. 'You're going to be a big brother Jack.'

The little boy's reaction was instantaneous. He shot up from his seat, fisted his hands at his side and turned on Emily. 'You're not my Mommy,' he shouted as he ran from them.

Hotch shut his eyes and winced as he heard a door slam. 'Well, that went well, didn't it?' offered Emily nervously.

His eyes showed his pain as he looked up at her. Hotch opened his mouth to reply before he looked past Emily's shoulder and realised just which door Jack had slammed. 'Oh shit,' he called as he flew up from his own seat and raced out the front door.

Dashing down the stairs, he spotted his son through the front door. Not caring as he knocked the arm of a woman entering, he sprinted down the path. He stretched out his arms and pulled Jack back against his chest just before he reached the street.

Tightening his arms on the resisting child, he stepped back onto the boundary of his apartment complex as his heart pounded at a mile a minute. Slipping Jack to the ground, he spun him around and gripped his shoulders, shaking him slightly. 'Don't you ever do that to me again!' he shouted. 'You could have been hurt, or worse!'

Seeing the anger in his father's face, Jack burst into tears. Wrapping his arms around his father's neck, he sobbed. 'I'm sorry Daddy, I'm sorry.'

Feeling the small shaking body of his son and the tight grip he held around his neck, Hotch's arms came around and held him just as tight. His son's tears dissipated his anger like no one else.

Taking a deep breath, he eased Jack back. Brushing the tears from his face, he spoke softly. 'I'm the one that is sorry Jack,' he said. 'I shouldn't have yelled at you.'

Jack sniffled.

'I know you're scared and confused,' continued Hotch, 'and this is a very scary change happening, but I want you to remember that no matter what happens, I'll always love you.' He paused for effect. 'And your Mommy will always be your Mommy. Nothing can change that Jack.' He pulled his son in for a tight hug and spoke his last words against his head. 'Nothing.'

'Promise?' asked Jack, pulling back, his arms around his father's neck, as one last hiccup escaped.

'I promise.'

Hotch pulled his son in for another hug before he stood up. He knew that he had just averted a major disaster. For now.

Walking up the path, Jack on his hip, he saw Emily sitting on the entrance steps. Taking the last few steps, he answered her unspoken question by sliding Jack down his body to face her. Easing off the steps and onto the ground, Emily knelt before Jack.

'I know you have a Mommy,' she said softly. 'And she was a really, really good one too wasn't she?' Jack nodded his head fiercely. 'I don't want to be your Mommy, but I do want to be your friend.' She took a deep breath. 'Do you think that I could be your friend?'

Her gaze on Jack never wavered as he thought long and hard about it before he nodded his head. 'You can be my friend.'

Emily made to hug him, but held back a little. It was Jack who wrapped his arms around her neck, quickly hugging her before stepping back. His little hands were on her shoulders when with a very serious face, he asked a question. 'Do you love Daddy?'

She heard the sharp intake of breath above her, but Emily refused to divert her eyes from the little boy. 'I do love your Daddy, Jack,' she replied, equally seriously. 'And I love you too.' Shifting her hand to her flat stomach, she continued. 'And I love the baby.'

Jack's face scrunched up as he looked at Emily's hand. 'But there's nothing there,' he protested. 'Where's the baby?'

Hotch laughed as he squatted down next to Emily, his side pressed against hers as he faced the confused boy. 'The baby's still growing son,' he explained, ruffling Jack's hair. 'The baby will get bigger soon and Emily's tummy will get bigger too. Just like Mommy's tummy got really big when she was pregnant with you.'

'Wow,' said Jack, awed. He had another question in seconds. 'When does the baby come?'

'In December,' replied Emily, reaching out her hand to Hotch's knee as her balance tipped to the left.

'But that's _after_ my birthday,' complained Jack, the event seeming so long away. Hotch laughed as he pulled his son into his arms. 'Sorry, kiddo. We all have to wait.'

When Jack suddenly went serious again, Emily and Hotch exchanged a look before Emily ducked her head to catch the little boy's eyes. 'What's the matter Jack?'

'I'm sorry for yelling at you before,' he said softly, scuffing his feet.

'It's okay Jack,' reassured Emily, placing a hand on his chin to urge his face up so that she could look into his eyes as she spoke. 'You were scared and confused. It was big news.'

'Yeah.' At the declaration, Jack then turned to his father. 'That doesn't mean that she's moving in does it?' he asked in concern.

Hotch gave a careful answer. 'Not at the moment.' _Not yet. _

Satisfied with the answer, Jack wrapped an arm around his father's neck and reached out to wrap one around Emily's. As Emily fought for her balance, Jack spoke in a clear determined tone.

'I want a brother.'

* * *

_Next chapter:_ Jack pulls out the album.


	8. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

Later that night, Aaron Hotchner opened the front door and allowed Emily Prentiss to pass him. The dark haired woman fiddled with the shoulder strap of her handbag and turned in the doorway to face him. 'Good night,' she said softly.

He reached out his arm, clasped her hip and pulled her in close to him. After pressing a long kiss to her lips, he parted. Sliding his hand to where their unborn child lay, he responded in kind. 'Good night.' She stepped back from his embrace and smiled as she walked down the hall.

Watching until she was out of sight, one last hand raised in farewell, Hotch shut the door and locked it.

Making his way down the hall to where Jack should be getting changed into his pyjamas, he mused that tonight could have gone a lot worse.

After their talk out the front of the apartment, Emily had accepted the invitation to stay for dinner – as vetted by Jack – and they had talked about mundane things. Whilst he knew that Jack still needed time to get used to Emily, his son had very quickly gotten used to the idea of a sibling.

Stepping into Jack's bedroom, he saw that the little boy was still not dressed in his pyjamas. Instead, he held a large photo album balanced on his knees. Hotch didn't need to see the images to know what he was looking at.

Without a word, he eased onto the bed beside his son, extending an arm across his back, anchored on his bed. It wasn't surprising that in the revelations of today, Jack wanted to reach out to his mother. He knew that he needed to reassure his son that with Emily joining their life, his mother wouldn't be forgotten.

As his little boy turned another page, Hotch's heart caught in his throat. There before him was a flashback to their past and a poignant memory of the funeral. Running his fingers across the plastic covering, for the first time, he felt he was able to share this story with Jack.

'Want a story kiddo?' he asked his son.

The little boy nodded his head eagerly, his eyes on his face. Slipping the photo from the plastic cover, and pushing the album to the side, he gathered his son up into his arms and shuffled back. Back against the headboard of the small bed, he positioned Jack on his upper thighs so that he could see his face.

Taking a deep breath, the action not hurting to much as previous failed attempts to do the same thing as he was doing now, he held the picture between them. 'This is the first time me and your Mommy met,' he started.

'At a concert?' asked Jack in confusion, seeing a stage filled with teenagers.

'No it was our school play,' clarified Hotch with a smile, his eyes sad, steeped in memories. 'It was called The Pirates of Penzance.'

'Pirates?' exclaimed Jack. 'Cool.'

'We didn't rob any ships and steal treasure Jack,' he clarified. He noted the downcast look on his son's face with a smile. 'Your mother didn't notice me back then.'

'Well, when _did _she notice you Daddy?' asked Jack, his interest piqued once again. Hotch's smile broadened. 'One day your mother was practicing her singing and a big wind came over and picked up her papers. Do you know what happened next?'

Jack's face was gleeful. 'The papers went flying everywhere didn't they? The wind blew them away!'

Hotch laughed, hugging Jack. 'That's right. And they went everywhere!' Hotch smiled in remembrance. 'We spent a long time running around and picking up those papers. And when we did get them all back, they were in such a mess.' Stuck in a memory, Hotch's eyes glazed over. 'We spent the rest of the night putting those papers in order. And then we went out for coffee.' Shaking himself free, he smiled as his attentively listening audience. 'And from then onwards, your Mommy and I spent a lot of time together.'

'Did you sing for the Pirates too Daddy?' asked Jack innocently.

Hotch couldn't stop the laugh that escaped. 'No Jack. Daddy was backstage.'

'What did you do at the backstage?'

'It was my job to make sure props and the chairs and the walls and all the big things were on stage at the right time,' explained Hotch.

'Cool,' said Jack. 'Did Mommy help you with that?'

Hotch shook his head. 'No, your Mommy was the star of the show. She sang and the people in the audience clapped because she was so good.'

Jack nodded his head, the comment making perfect sense. 'Mommy sang a lot.'

Hotch nodded in agreement. 'We worked on the play and then when it was finished, we stayed really good friends. We loved each other a lot, and so we got married. And then do you know what happened? A very special little boy joined our lives. Now who could that be?'

'It's me! It's me!' laughed Jack, bouncing in his father's lap.

'That's right Jack. We had you,' replied Hotch. Pulling his son up to his chest, he wrapped his arms around his boy and rested his chin on his head. 'And we both loved you so much.'

There was a moment of shared comfortable silence before Jack spoke softly. 'Can we say it again?'

'Can we say what again kiddo?' asked Hotch, shifting his head to try and see his son's face.

'The poem,' replied Jack, easing back to lie across his father's lap, his eyes looking up to his as he blinked sleepily. 'The poem you said at the funeral.'

Tears pooling at the corner of his eyes, Hotch nodded his head. As he began to speak, Jack joined in with the words that he knew, the few words that he could remember.

_Oh, dry the glistening tear_

_That dews that martial cheek_

_Thy loving children hear_

_In them they comfort seek_

_With sympathetic care_

_Their arms around thee creep_

_For oh, they cannot bear_

_To see their father weep! _

As the last words petered off, Hotch saw that Jack was asleep. Pressing a kiss to his son's forehead, he held him close for a while. As he marvelled at the son that he and Hailey had created – their little miracle – he felt a weight lift off his shoulders.

For the first time since Erin Strauss had knocked on his door and offered retirement, for the first time since Jessica had offered to take Jack when he was away on cases, for the first time since Hailey had died, for the first time since he had returned to work, for the first time since he knew he was going to be a father again, he thought that maybe – just maybe – things might be alright.

* * *

_Next chapter:_ One down, one to go.


	9. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

STARLIGHT, TEXAS

_The teenager runs through the cornfields. Ice cold fear fills her veins._

_Starlight is all that guides her in her frantic run._

_Terror is on her face as she scrambles forward blindly. She doesn't know what she's running from. All she knows is that she needs to get away from it. _

_She could have been running around in circles for all she knew, the tall stalks around her offering no sense of direction. _

_She sees the light in the distance and a spark of hope ignites within. Veering left, she runs for the building, hoping for a safe haven. _

_She sobs in relief as the house comes into view. She stumbles on the steps in her eagerness to reach the top._

_She rights herself, makes it up the stairs and pounds on the door. 'Help me!' she calls frantically. 'Somebody help me!' she begs as she drops to the ground. _

_The door creaks open and a man fills the gap. She can't see his face as the hall light shines brightly from behind him, casting a shadow on his features. _

'_Hello,' says the voice. 'Won't you come in?' _

* * *

'Autumn Lovett is the third girl murdered in the past two months in Starlight, Texas,' stated Agent Jareau with her usual efficiency. Clicking, she added images and faced the team. 'Rory Updyke and Mary Kate McFarland have already died.'

'Any connections?' asked Morgan as he looked at the file before him.

JJ turned back to the screen with a slight shake of her head. 'They're all in their late teens, early 20s. All three are local girls. But, apart from that... Are you okay Emily?'

Emily Prentiss had been horrified to discover that she had tears in her eyes looking at the three young women on the screen before them. The birthdate of victim number two was the day after she was due. Accepting the tissue that was suddenly before her, she dismissed everyone's concern. 'I'm fine,' she responded, slightly water-y. 'Just allergies.'

'I didn't realise you had allergies,' said Reid perturbed.

'How about we focus on the case?' interrupted Hotch. He was thankful when his friend took his lead and he flashed Emily a concerned look. 'What's the killing method?' asked Rossi.

'First victim was stabbed, second victim was burnt and the third asphyxiation with a rope.' Emily kept her gaze off the screen – and off Hotch – as she offered her opinion. 'Weapons of opportunity.'

'Victims one and three showed signs of sexual assault,' added JJ, 'but the second victim's body was too degraded to make any findings.'

'Why are they asking for our help?' probed Reid.

JJ changed the screen to black. 'Starlight's hosting their 25th Anniversary since the town was founded this weekend and want this 'mess' sorted out as soon as possible. They've run out of leads, but the sheriff suspects that the unsub may make a move throughout the celebrations, seeing as his potential pool of victims will grow.'

'Wheels up in an hour.'

* * *

It's a stinkin' hot Texan summer.

Stepping from the black SUV later that afternoon, Emily Prentiss released a breath as a wave of dry hot air hit her. Feeling herself beginning to sweat instantly, she pulled her arms above her head to pull her hair into a ponytail. Task complete, and as she dropped her arms to her side once again, she saw Morgan looking at her strangely from the boot of the car.

She opened her mouth to ask him about it, but he turned away, pulled a bag free and headed into the station before she could. As the rest of the team followed, she shut her door and looked down on herself in confusion, trying to imagine why Morgan had been looking at her strangely.

_Oh._

The hot weather and subsequent sweating had her shirt sticking to her like a second skin. She was startled to see that three and a half months into her pregnancy, she now had a little bump, and said little bump was very much apparent in her current clothing choices and the weather conditions.

Pulling her shirt free and flapping the material in an attempt to dry it, she lamented that she'd need to do some covering up as she headed for the station. The heat was only slightly better there, a distinctive lack of air conditioning as fans turning on the ceiling uselessly.

Ten minutes later, she was back out of the station again with Reid and Deputy Farrar Morris with orders to visit the first crime scene. Hotch and Rossi drove off before them, heading for the newest crime scene. Morgan was inside talking with the town sheriff and JJ was talking with the local press and organising committee concerned about what impact a potential serial killer in their midst would have on their celebrations.

Their crime scene in town, Emily groaned inwardly when she discovered that they'd be walking.

Thankful that Reid kept up a steady stream of chatter, she focussed on moving through the muggy, unbearable heat. She noticed that both men seemed to be coping just fine and wondered if maybe it was just her. Hm, pregnant her.

'What's all this?' asked Reid when they entered the town square which was decked out in its greatest: bright stars adorned storefronts, a huge moon hung from a pole and a raised stage was half way through being built. The glare off the silver hurt her eyes and she turned away.

'The Starlight Festival is our annual celebration,' declared the deputy proudly, sweat marks apparent in his underarms as he gestured grandly around him. 'Come this way...'

In the middle of the square, the place of honour was held by a statue of a man looking up at the sky. 'Peter Noonan founded Starlight twenty five years ago,' said Farrar Morris in his best tour guide voice. 'This festival is extra special as we celebrate our quarter century – our silver jubilee if you will.'

'Any particular reason this town is called Starlight?' probed Reid as Emily looked up at the brass statue, shading her eyes. She swallowed convulsively as the sky seemed to tilt. Battling dizziness, she tried to focus her energies on what the two men were saying.

The deputy was nodding his head enthusiastically. 'Wait until you see our skies at night. A more beautiful sight you will never see – except maybe when they crown Miss Starlight tomorrow night.' The deputy laughed before he grew sombre. 'Let me show you where we found Mary Kate's body.'

As the pair of them moved off to a shop on the far side of the square, the heat was oppressive as she made to step after them. Her mouth was dry as she opened her mouth to speak, but the ground was no longer flat and the haze from the heat rolled before her eyes.

Without much further ado, Emily Prentiss fainted.

* * *

Having seen the crime scene, Hotch and Rossi now walked up the dusty path to the large house that presumably housed the owner of the land. Making their way up the steps, they stepped onto the porch and knocked on the door.

The door was opened cautiously by a man who refused to meet their eye.

'Agents Hotchner and Rossi,' said Hotch as a means of introduction, flipping open his badge, Rossi doing the same beside him. 'We'd like to ask you about the girl that was found dead on your property two days ago. Can we come in?'

The man shook his head repeatedly, his stiff arm shaking in unison. 'No, you won't come in.'

Sensing that if they pushed too hard, this man might not tell us anything, Hotch treaded carefully. 'Did you see anything that night?'

'D-don't know nothin' about that,' stuttered the man, his head twitching as his arm jumped.

'You didn't see anything?' pressed Rossi. 'You didn't hear anything?'

'I told you I didn't hear anything!' shouted the man, taking a little step forward, then a quick step back, his eyes never leaving the ground. He went still for a moment before he spoke. 'There was no moon that night. Only starlight.'

'What is your name sir?' asked Rossi, trying to gain some semblance of connection with their potential witness.

'You not local,' he replied, shaking his head. 'I not tell.' Further answers could not be obtained as the man shuffled back into his house and shut the door. 'You go now.'

'Well that was helpful,' said Rossi as they walked down the path.

'Mm,' replied Hotch, reaching for his phone when it rang. 'Morgan, we've... What?!'

Rossi's head flew around to look at the man frozen to the spot next to him, startled at this display of emotion from the usually stoic agent.

He didn't have to wait long to find out what it was as Hotch hung up the phone and reached for the car keys. Keeping up with the sudden brisk pace of his tense friend, Rossi heard the tight explanation.

'Emily's fainted.'

* * *

Coming to, Emily was mortified.

Huddled around her looking down at her, she could see could see JJ, Morgan, Reid and Farrar Morris. 'Is she okay?' asked the concerned deputy.

'Water,' she managed to choke out, her throat dry.

Easing up to accept the water bottle JJ offered her, she could feel the sweat still soaking her clothes and the stickiness of the couch. The water running down her throat made little difference as she took a second gulp.

Her hand coming to rest on her abdomen by habit, she realised that there was no hiding that her tummy was just a little more rounded than usual. It looked like the time for her to share her news with the team was coming up very soon.

Taking another sip of the water to avoid that explanation just yet, she mused that she wasn't sure why she hadn't done it before today. Scratch that. She knew she wanted to hold onto the 'normalcy' of life for as long as she could, and honestly, the days seemed to be flying at such a brisk pace that there frankly hadn't been a right time yet.

She'd managed to avoid the questions of those around her and had almost finished the water bottle when the front door of the station flew open and the last two members of the team arrived. Even from her position, she could see that Aaron Hotchner was a man on a mission.

She found enough energy to swing her legs off the couch and wasn't surprised when Hotch marched between everyone and knelt before her. He didn't touch her, but his gaze was intense. 'Are you both okay?'

'Both?' asked Reid in confusion as pandemonium reigned.

* * *

_Next chapter:_ What?!


	10. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

**Author's Note: **I have added one thing to the previous chapter to tie in with the case facts to come. For those of you that go looking, the addition is the reason why Emily was teary when she saw the victim photos.

* * *

Sitting in front of a fan with a cold towel around the back of her neck and orders to stay put Emily Prentiss took a sip from the cool drink in her hand. Shifting the towel around her neck, she eased off the sticky couch once again.

The initial shock at Hotch's sudden announcement at asking if they were both okay had actually disappeared pretty quickly. Everyone, except Reid, already had suspicions as to her current state.

Morgan's explanation had been simple: 'You work with a team of profilers.'

'I was wondering when you were going to share your news,' Rossi had stated, whilst JJ had grinned. 'Couldn't hide if for much longer!'

'I just thought she was sick,' mumbled Reid. 'Allergies.'

Recalling the conversation in her mind before she'd been banished to the room to rest, she realised that the team still didn't know the paternity of her child. Considering the implications, the ring of her phone interrupted the soft whoop-whoop of the fan. Noting caller id, she placed the phone gingerly to her ear. 'Hello Garcia.'

'Emily!' screeched the outraged technical analyst.

_She really should have expected this call. _

* * *

Meanwhile, the team is in the conference room discussing what they had learnt thus far. 'Sheriff Gilligan, maybe you can help me out here,' said Hotch. 'We visited a man who lived at the house near where Autumn Lovett was found.'

'You mean Simon Peter?' scoffed Ted Gilligan before elaborating for the unamused agents. 'Simon Peter Wycombe's a little slow in the head. Has been for what is it now...'

'Three years Chief,' offered the deputy helpfully. 'Yeah ever since... Why? You reckon he might have something to do with this?'

'We can't rule out anything,' replied Hotch. 'Did you get anything Reid?'

'Apart from a fascinating history on this town you mean?' said Reid enthusiastically. 'When I went back and had a look at the first crime scene, there wasn't much to see. But...' he added. 'The Miss Starlight parade tomorrow night is something we need to watch. They'll...'

'Miss Starlight?' interrupted JJ.

'Yeah.'

'Morgan,' she said. 'All three victims were going to be part of that competition.'

'How many girls can we expect tomorrow night?' he asked the sheriff who fumbled when the gaze of five agents turned on him. 'Twenty plus I reckon. You'd need to check with Sue for the exact numbers.'

'That's too many,' muttered Morgan as he walked to the whiteboard. Three pictures were lined up with names and birthdates below: Mary Kate McFarland - 11 November 1991, Rory Updyke - 8 December 1989, Autumn Lovett - 29 December 1992.

'We need to narrow down victimology,' he ordered. 'JJ, get those names from Sue. We need to know what we're working with.'

* * *

'Why wasn't I told?' demanded Garcia.

With an irate technician on her hands, Emily thought about her answer. 'I was still figuring things out,' she answered. Having said that, sharing the news with someone that wasn't a doctor or a Hotchner was making her situation all the more real.

As Garcia ranted and raved about the injustice of her only finding out about the pregnancy now, Emily listened patiently. There did eventually come a time when her input was required in this conversation as Garcia's voice dropped several notches to ask a question gleefully. 'So... who's your baby's daddy?'

'Not quite ready to share that with you,' replied Emily with a grin. She and Hotch needed to talk about that first.

'Any chance it is one certain delectable dark haired agent that someone I know has been pining after for a while,' fished the exuberant woman.

'Pining Garcia?' she snorted. 'Really.'

'Oh fusspot,' she chided before she jumped onto another topic of conversation. 'So when is this baby due?'

'Seventh of December,' replied Emily, her hand resting on the damp shirt covering her rounded stomach.

'Ah,' sighed Garcia. 'A Sagittarius babe. Let's hope for a boy.' There was a strategic pause before she spoke in an I'm-so-not-trying-to-play-you tone. 'Hypothetically speaking, what is the star sign of our illustrious leader?'

'You want to know what Hotch's star sign is?' asked Emily in amusement. 'It's whatever's at the beginning of October. Any particular reason you're interested?'

'Ooh a Libra,' said Garcia. 'Librans and Aquarians go well together!'

'Thank you for that romantic advice,' said Emily distractedly. Something was sticking its hand up at the back of her mind, demanding to be acknowledged. 'Hey Garcia, send me that information.'

'What? The star signs?' she clarified. 'Sure chickpea. Transporting to your phone now.'

Standing up from her chair, Emily made her way quickly into the room next door. She ignored the look Hotch sent her as she headed for the whiteboard of victims, mobile in hand. 'I think I've got something.'

Beneath each victim, she wrote their star sign: Mary Kate McFarland – Scorpio, Rory Updyke – Sagittarius, Autumn Lovett – Capricorn. She drew a large question mark on the board next to their latest victim, writing Aquarius underneath and 20 January – 18 February.

Capping the pen, she turned to the bemused team. 'In a town like Starlight, victims that are dying in star sign chronological order has to mean something.'

'Star signs?' asked Rossi in confusion, looking at the victim birth days. 'Isn't it one per month? Victims two and three both have birthdays in December.'

Emily swallowed with difficulty at the mention of December. Responding to Rossi's question, she shook her head. 'Months are split.'

'Is there anyone born in late January/early February entering the Starlight pageant?' asked Hotch. JJ began to flick through the newly arrived files furiously. Pulling a paper free, she nodded. 'Just the one. Imogen Wilder, born 17 February 1990.'

Morgan nodded as he took the paper and looked at the date range on the whiteboard. 'She's an Aquarius. Barely.' Placing the paper on the desk, he exchanged a look with Hotch. 'It's weak, but it's a lead.'

'Whatever it is,' said Rossi, 'it's going down at the festival tomorrow night.'

* * *

Security was tight around the less than impressed Imogen Wilder. The twenty year old balked at her protection detail, citing that it interfered with her preparation. Regardless, Rossi was sticking to her like a stamp to a letter.

As the Starlight Parade reached the town square, all other agents were watching the crowd and stage. The temperature had dropped sufficiently for Emily to walk outside not feeling like she was under a steam press. Ignoring the pleas of her team – and Hotch – to stay at the station, she was on the outskirts of the crowd doing surveillance.

There were people everywhere.

The only one missing was Spencer Reid, who had orders to review all the files and see if maybe there was another connection that they had missed. As the young genius looked at the victims, pageant profiles and their limited pool of suspects, his mind worked at a breakneck pace trying to make connections.

Deep in thought, he startled when the deputy, dressed to impress, dashed through the door, a file in hand. 'Here's that paperwork that Agent Hotchner requested earlier.'

'Thank you Morris,' replied Reid. As he opened it, the young man dashed out. Reading the paperwork, he wondered. 'Could it really be that simple?' he muttered.

Calling Hotch instead of Morgan out of habit, he dispensed with pleasantries and jumped straight in. 'I knew Simon Peter meant something. He's the disciple that denied his connection to Jesus three times before the cock crowed at dawn.'

'Reid. Relevance,' ordered Hotch, putting his phone on speaker as he continued to survey the crowed.

'It's all symbolic Hotch,' said Reid. 'Denying your connection. In this case, it's father-son.'

'Not making sense yet kid,' said Morgan as the first of the young women began to parade on the stage. The Miss Starlight pageant had begun.

Reid paced as he tried to put his thoughts in order. 'I was reading up on the local history last night. The town founder – Peter Noonan – was a hard man to like and a hard man to get along with, but he left his wealth and legacy to the town when he died three years ago. The family got nothing in the will.'

'He had a son,' said Hotch, coming to a realisation as Imogen stepped out and walked across the stage. They were almost halfway through the girls.

'He did,' confirmed Reid. 'He was christened Joshua Marcus Noonan, but he changed his name to Simon Peter Wycombe three years ago.'

'Right when his father died,' concluded Hotch as Morgan swore. 'Damnit, where is he now?'

'Emily was on the right track with the star signs,' continued Reid quickly. 'Apparently Peter Noonan lived his life by the stars and the twelve signs of the zodiac were especially important to him.'

'He's going to kill tonight,' gritted Morgan.

'Get them off the stage,' ordered Hotch. He called the sheriff over and explained their theory as Morgan made for JJ and the pageant's producer.

'You think it's Simon Peter?' said Gilligan incredulously. 'You think he did this? The kid's just wrong in the head.'

'That may be so,' confirmed Hotch, 'but mental illness does not preclude psychopathic tendencies. The facts are startling. I need you to order your men...'

A gunshot sounded.

The young women on the stage screamed and scattered. Rossi headed for Imogen Wilder – their likely next victim – as the crowd panicked and began to scatter. As people escaped down roads, alleyways and into shops, the BAU team tried to identify where the shot had come from.

'Talk to me,' ordered Morgan. 'Where is everybody?'

'JJ and I are with Imogen Wilder,' replied Rossi, gun raised in readiness.

'I'm with the sheriff,' responded Hotch as he scanned the buildings surrounding the square.

'Prentiss?' asked Morgan. Hearing nothing, he repeated his call. 'Where's Prentiss?'

Hotch's eyes flew off the buildings and around to them. _Where was Emily?_

'There!' someone called and he turned to the stage.

Hotch went cold at the sight.

* * *

_Next chapter:_ Dun, dun, dun...


	11. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

In the large circle that the sole spotlight made on the stage, Simon Peter Wycombe stood with a gun raised to the head of his captive. The light off the shiny metal squares of the large star suspended in the air, revolving like a disco ball, reflected eerily on his face. There was no indication of the illness he had demonstrated the day before as his left arm was tight around the woman's neck as his wild eyes surveyed all before him.

Amidst the chaos all around him, standing in the middle of the town square, all Aaron Hotchner could see was Emily Prentiss. He could see that she was fighting to remain calm.

'Why would he want your agent?' asked the sweating sheriff.

Never taking his eyes from her, he answered. 'She's an Aquarian,' said Hotch softly.

'How the hell would he know that?' asked Ted Gilligan, mopping at his brow.

'I don't know,' responded Hotch. 'And I really don't plan to stick around and find out why.'

Removing his jacket, Hotch made a show of removing his gun and placing it on the ground. He called their unsub's attention to him, ignoring the calls of his teammates. He refused to sit back while they debated the pros and cons of what to do. Any other situation, and he'd be leading that discussion, but this wasn't any other situation.

This was Emily. And his child.

He could see Simon Peter noting his slow approach warily, but he stayed in the spotlight. 'I just want to talk,' he said conversationally, taking another careful step. He stopped moving in when Simon Peter raised the gun to Emily's temple. 'You come any closer and I'll shoot her.' Emily's hands clutched at her captor's arm as she struggled to breathe.

He stopped and kept his hands his hands raised. 'I won't come any closer,' he promised, relieved when the man loosened his grip on his woman. Holding still, he tried another tactic. 'What do you need her for?' he asked conversationally. 'How about if you let her go, you and I can have a chat. How does that sound?'

The man shook his head desperately. 'You can't have her. She's mine, not yours.' His voice dropped and Hotch strained to hear what he said. 'I need her.'

'What do you need her for?' he pressed.

His question startled the crazed man. 'I don't need her,' he said confused. 'Dad does. He needs twelve of them,' he babbled. 'Twelve sacrifices for the twelve signs.'

Hotch risked another step forward as Simon Peter turned his attention back to him. 'You can't take her from me. You can't. If you do, I'll... I'll... I'll kill her now. I swear.'

He willed himself to keep his eye on the unsub and off Emily. The less attention he drew to her, the better. 'You don't want to do that really, do you?' he asked carefully. 'Do you, Joshua?'

The man's body became rigid at the mention of his birth name. Without a care for his captive, he marched to the edge of the stage. 'You know nothing about Joshua,' he shouted as Emily struggled for even footing once again. 'Nothing! You know nothing of what he went through.'

'You're right,' agreed Hotch. 'I get it. You hate your father.'

Simon Peter Wycombe – nee Joshua Marcus Noonan – was breathing heavily from his precarious perch on the edge, but he remained silent. Hotch risked another step forward. What he was going to do next was a risk, and he prayed to whichever God was currently on duty that it would work.

'Simon,' he called, making sure to use his new name, 'I'm asking you to not take away _my _chance to be a father.'

'What are you talking about?' responded the man, his head moving frantically as he looked around wildly.

Hoping that the form currently moving in the shadows at the back of the stage was who he thought it was, Hotch took a deep breath. 'She's pregnant with my child.'

Simon Peter went cold. 'Well, let's spare this child the misery of a father then, shall we?' The determined man pulled Emily back against him and moved back into the spotlight. About to leave the light on the other side, he raised his gun and levelled it on Hotch.

'Don't come after me.'

* * *

David Rossi moved silently.

From his position offstage, he could see the back of their unsub and the dark hair of Prentiss. The instant that Hotch had begun to engage with the unsub, he'd slipped from JJ and Imogen Wilder and headed for the back of the stage.

He had to hope that Aaron knew what he was doing, but he was safe in the knowledge that the team would back them up when the time came for it.

His friend's revelation that he was the father of Emily's child had been surprising, but he pushed the news off to the side, focusing on the situation at hand. Whilst making such as statement, and laying a claim on the person he was holding captive, was risky, the unsub was most certainly reacting.

For all his threats of suffering, it was clear that Hotch's words had rattled him.

Rossi ducked further into the shadows as Simon Peter marched by him for the back of the stage. He knew there was a risk that the unsub would start shooting wildly at anyone if he was approached at the wrong moment. Seeing him heading for the ladder at the back of the stage, Rossi took a careful step forward. His foot landed on a small glass star, shattering it.

_Crack! _

Simon Peter flew around at the loud noise, his captive in front of him once again. His gun left Emily's head and shook as he tried to focus it on Rossi. The older man's grip never wavered as his eyes found Emily's.

'Duck,' he mouthed to her. She reacted immediately and planted the heel of her shoe into the unsub's foot. As the man jerked and howled at the pain, Emily dropped the instant his grip on her loosened.

Rossi's shot hit Simon Peter in the shoulder, but it made no difference.

The crazed man threw his gun off to the side and grabbed the bottom rung of the ladder. He left a blood trail as he leaped up the rungs.

Rossi dashed over to his pregnant colleague, but she waved him on. 'I'm fine, go catch him.' He saw Aaron vaulting the front of the stage and dashed for the stairs.

Reaching the top, he saw Simon Peter walking along the struts for lights and other assorted props without a care in the world. Following at a much slower pace, the distance to fall at the forefront of his mind, Rossi gripped all available holds. 'I'm too old for this shit.'

Reaching the thick beam that ran the length of the front of the stage, he could see Morgan, JJ and the newly arrived Reid on the town square below, guns following the man who now stood front and centre looking out over the town. Morgan was talking, but their unsub wasn't in the mood for listening.

Instead, he began to rip of his clothes, not caring that with each movement, his balance on the beam became more precarious. As the clothes floated down, Rossi could hear the girl he'd spent the worst part of the last two hours watching crying and screaming hysterically.

Disregarding his own safety, Rossi began to make his way over to the stark naked man. He had a feeling that he was about to do something very stupid.

Sure enough, Simon Peter looked up at the stars and stretched his arms wide open. 'Look at me Dad!' he shouted. 'Starlight!'

Rossi lunged but it was too late. The angry son of Starlight's founder fell over the edge.

In a sickening twist, the huge revolving disco star pierced the body that fell in the air. The metal and human combination swung before the weight became too much. The attachment snapped and the star dropped.

Falling to the stage below, it smashed mere inches from Hotch and Emily.

At the sight, Emily promptly turned and threw up on the bottom of Imogen Wilder's dress.

* * *

Later that night, JJ shook her head as she looked at a number of her teammates around the table. 'The small-town mentality just never goes away,' she complained.

Reid shrugged his shoulders. 'I guess they're hoping the fact that they had a murderer in their midst will just go away.'

'Did you know that they're actually going to order a DNA test to see if Simon Peter, or Joshua, or whatever his bloody name is, is actually the son of Peter Noonan?' asked JJ incredulously.

'God forbid if their precious founder's name should be tarnished unnecessarily,' muttered Rossi as Morgan snorted.

Emily caught the end of the conversation as she made her way over. 'Hi guys.'

'Emily!' they clamoured. 'How is everything?' 'Are you okay?' 'Are you _both _okay?' The last question came from Reid.

'I'm fine,' she reassured them, easing carefully into the chair, some muscles sore. 'We're both fine.'

Placing her water bottle on the table, she saw all eyes still on her. There was a sense of lightness amongst them, a welcome relief to the darkness of the events just past. 'So Hotch huh?' said JJ, leaning in toward her friend.

'I thought you were all a crack team of profilers,' teased Emily as she rubbed her swell. Morgan in particular laughed outright at that.

'What?' asked Reid in confusion. The explanation for the young genius had to wait a little longer as Aaron Hotchner arrived. He ignored the rest of the team, his eyes only for the dark haired woman. 'Emily,' he asked stiffly. 'A word?'

'Sure,' replied Emily slipping from her seat once again. She smiled in apology to her teammates as she allowed Hotch to escort her over to the other side of the room. She wasn't entirely sure what he had planned, but she was startled when the hand firmly on her back shifted and she was pulled back against his chest. His fingers twined together and rested on her bump as he pulled her tight to him. He burrowed his head into her neck as he released a shaky breath.

Oblivious to the stares and chatter at the table in the far corner, she covered his hands with her own, speaking softly. 'Near miss.'

'Too close,' replied the tense man darkly.

'I'm okay Aaron,' she reassured him, tracing one hand along his exposed lower arm. 'Baby Hotchner's okay too.'

'I'm not.'

Grinning at the short response, she tilted her head to look into his face. But her smile faded at the shuttered look on his face. He was thoroughly rattled. Not caring where she was and who was watching, she turned in his arms. His grip on her never lessened as she clasped his face and drew him in for a kiss.

She felt the desperation in his kiss as he responded.

'Why can't life be simple?' murmured Hotch when they parted, his eyes scanning her features.

'What fun would it be then?' she replied jovially, but there was a shaky quality to her tone.

Hotch raised one hand to brush hair from his partner's face. He looked into her eyes intently before he spoke. 'You have a meeting with Strauss next week.'

'Aaron...' she warned, easing back from him, but he refused to let her go.

'I don't care if you tell her about me or not,' he said, dismissing her response, 'but she needs to know you're pregnant.'

She released a heavy sigh. 'Fine. You're just lucky I l...' She never finished the sentence as Hotch's hand slipped to the nape of her neck and he covered her lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she deepened the kiss.

It was hard to miss Morgan's wolf whistle then.

* * *

_Next chapter:_ Facing the Ice Queen.


	12. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

Aaron Hotchner looked up from his desk when a knock sounded on his door. Silhouetted against the dim light of the bullpen, Derek Morgan stood in the doorway. 'I'm off Hotch,' he said, straight to the point.

Hotch nodded his head. 'Thanks for the reports again today Derek,' said the boss, nodding to the stack on his right.

'Don't mention it,' replied Morgan, shrugging off the gratitude. 'You're here late.'

'Just finished up something,' Hotch responded, his expression giving nothing away. When his boss was not forthcoming with more information, Morgan nodded. 'Night Hotch.'

'Good night Morgan.'

'Good night to you too Jack,' added the dark skinned man with a smile, his first since his arrival.

The little boy in Hotch's lap looked up from his colouring in with a wide smile on his face. His fingers held several crayons as he waved. 'Good night Mr Morgan!'

After Morgan left, Hotch pressed a kiss to his son's head and complimented his artistic work. His heart wasn't in it though, his mind on a meeting two floors up.

* * *

Emily Prentiss sat opposite Erin Strauss. Dressed in pressed black pants, shirt and jacket, she drew confidence from her professional appearance.

'So Agent Prentiss,' began Strauss, leaning forward on her desk, hands clasped together. 'I understand that you have something to tell me?'

Emily opened her mouth to reply, and then shut it again when the office phone rang.

The Section Chief ignored it and gestured for her to continue. 'Thank you for this meeting,' said Emily formally. 'I need to advise you that I am pregnant.' She squeezed her hands together. 'Almost four months along.'

'I see,' said Strauss. 'Well, this is unexpected. I trust that you want to remain with the team until your maternity leave?'

'About that...' She trailed off as Strauss' assistant opened the office door. He gestured 'phone' in the most urgent tone that he could, whilst still maintaining his composure. Strauss smiled thinly, dismissing him as she reached for her handset.

From her position opposite the desk, Emily could just hear the conversation. 'Is this Federal Bureau of Investigation Section Chief Director Erin Strauss?'

'Yes it is,' confirmed the blonde haired woman, sitting up taller, preening at the recognisance of her status. 'May I ask who is calling?'

'Please hold for a call from the Ambassador.'

Emily's breath caught in her throat. _Oh no..._

'This is Ambassador Prentiss,' came the crisp voice clearly used to authority. 'Put me on the speaker phone.'

_Oh yes... _

As Strauss automatically did the bidding, Emily wasn't entirely sure how she felt as the familiar voice filtered over the line.

'Hello Mother.'

* * *

Hotch hadn't expected the meeting to go brilliantly, but the exasperated look on Emily's face when she stepped into his office was not expected either.

Emily greeted Jack where he was sprawled on the carpet in front of his father's desk, playing with cars – intent on smashing one into the other – before stepping over the little boy and heading for the big one who was easing his chair back.

She straddled his lap without a word. Surprised at her forwardness, Hotch nevertheless declined from mentioning it as he rested his hands on her thighs. 'So?'

'Apparently our child is a matter of national security,' she said harshly.

'I'm sorry?' said Hotch, confused.

'This child of ours is a matter of national security,' repeated Emily. 'My mother advised Strauss in no uncertain terms that it was a matter of national security that I not be subject to any form of discipline. Apparently it is not in this great country's interest that the reputation of the daughter of the Ambassador about to be assigned to the EU be smeared.' Emily laughed shortly, still unable to believe it herself. 'My mother had to call, like I was some helpless case and claim national security?' she said in disbelief.

'Em,' ventured Hotch when the brunette finished venting. 'Do you think that maybe your mother is trying to protect you?' he reasoned.

'No,' she replied succinctly and Hotch saw a flash of Emily Prentiss as a rebellious teenager. It's amazing what effect parents had on their children. 'It reminds me of all the times when I was a teenager and she came by to make it all disappear. God forbid if I should damage her "ambassador-brand".'

Hotch was ready to speak, but Emily beat him to it, sighing as she accepted defeat. 'I know that I should actually be thankful, but I wanted to face this on my own. I didn't need _her _help,' she added, more to herself.

Hotch watched her face before he posed his question. 'How did Strauss take it?'

'She wasn't too impressed with being told what to do – or what not to do rather,' she admitted with a shrug of her shoulders. Her eyes met his as she remembered. 'And by the way, paternity's known too.'

'It is?' he asked in surprise, though it made sense. Why else would Ambassador Prentiss feel the need to step in?

Emily nodded in confirmation. 'My mother-' the anger was still there, but not as pronounced '-made sure of that. It wouldn't do to have the father of her grandchild anything less than stellar. What are they doing?' she muttered. 'Collecting evidence of any and all transgressions before she leaves the States?'

Hotch let that one go. 'And Strauss was okay with that?'

Emily nodded her head. 'She had to be.'

Hotch contemplated this in silence. The only sound that could be heard was Jack's soft beep-ing and honk-ing as plastic met plastic.

It was Emily who spoke next. 'Strauss didn't go down without a fight though,' she elaborated and he felt her tense. 'She took great delight in declaring that I should let you know that with budget cuts and the like, to not expect any replacement for me.'

'Right.'

Leaning back, Hotch rested his chin on one hand. As the stressful implications of this hit him, it then occurred to him that he didn't know what all this meant future-wise for Emily. 'If you're not – if we're not – facing any disciplinary charges, and you're no longer on the team, where are you going?'

'Teaching,' she replied, releasing a quick whoosh of breath. 'My skills will now be put to use teaching the profilers coming up in the ranks.'

'You'll be a good one,' Hotch replied sincerely.

'Thanks,' she said, uncertain. 'I don't know.'

Seeing her becoming teary, he grew concerned. 'Are you okay?'

'No, I'm not,' she snapped, before she took a deep breath to calm herself. 'I am never this emotional,' she grouched grumpily. 'I should be seeing this as a new career move – not a loss.'

'Mm,' responded Hotch neutrally. This was a minefield, and he had a suspicion that if he wanted to retain his ability to produce more offspring, he should keep his trap shut for the next few moments.

'It's just that I'm going to miss working on the team with you all,' sighed Emily. 'No more away trips, no more frantic rushes to save our victims, no more real life profiling,' she lamented. 'Just textbooks.'

That startled him. 'Already?'

'Mm,' confirmed Emily. 'I've got a new office waiting for me next week.'

'Right.'

What Emily hated and feared would happen since she first knew she was pregnant then followed as she burst into tears. The action unexpected for him too, Hotch found his arms full of a crying woman as Emily buried her head into his shoulder and let it all out. His arms automatically came around to run up and down her back.

Intent on the brunette, Hotch startled when another voice entered the fray. 'Why's Emily crying?' asked Jack innocently.

'She's a bit overwhelmed,' replied Hotch.

'What's the over-elmed?' asked Jack as Emily's tears began to slow.

'It means that everything is a bit too much for her at the moment,' explained Hotch.

'Oh.' Pause. 'Poor Emily,' agreed Jack, patting her on the back.

Jack stopped long enough to scramble up onto what was left of his father's knee, making room for himself on the rather full lap. 'You can have my favourite car if it will make you feel better,' he said seriously, holding out the black SUV.

Hotch ruffled his son's hair proudly as Emily brushed her tears away. 'Thanks Jack,' she replied, taking the precious proferred vehicle. 'Maybe I'll hold onto it for just a little while.' Slipping from Hotch's lap, she held onto the car tight. 'I'll take good care of it,' she promised.

Leaving the office, Hotch swung his son up into his arms as both men waited for Emily to gather up her things. Jack gleefully laughed as he was held upside down, his hands almost touching the floor if he reached far enough. His father was laughing too before he spotted Emily's face.

'Em?' he asked in concern. 'Emily!' declared Jack with a laughing call of his own from upside down. 'What's the matter?' asked Hotch.

Emily fingered Jack's car as she looked around wistfully. 'I'm going to miss this.'

* * *

**Author's Note: **Don't shoot me! (ducks) All this is happening for a reason!

_Next chapter:_ Working the case.


	13. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

**Author's Note: **I know I've divided my readers with my decision to remove Emily from the team – and so soon – but it is necessary for my story line that she not travel with the team, and I felt that it was realistic to expect that she couldn't continue serving under Hotch when pregnant with his child – no matter how intentional that state was (or wasn't!) – particularly when paternity is known. I felt was pushing the lines of reality anyway having Emily's mother step in as a means for me to sidestep the expected disciplinary measures. With that out of my system, it is on with the story...

* * *

Standing outside the Hotchner apartment a week and a half later, Emily Prentiss tapped a tune on her taut abdomen as she knocked on the door, humming its counterpart under her breath. Hearing no sound, she frowned slightly, and lifted her hand to knock again.

She held herself off when she heard shuffling movements on the other side. Pressing an ear to the door in an attempt to identify the noises – and determine if there was a need to be concerned or not – she jerked back when the door opened and she was greeted by a beaming boy.

'Hi Jack,' she started to say, before she was shushed by the little boy who grabbed her hand and dragged her into the house. Making sure the door was shut behind her, she noted the chair that Jack must have stood on to reach the knob as he pulled her down to his level. Squatting, one hand on the ground to reclaim that once known, such a long time ago balance she faced the serious boy. 'I'm working the case,' declared young Hotchner, whispering loudly.

'What case?' she responded just as quietly.

'I have to find Daddy,' said Jack, looking all around him as if his father was suddenly going to appear. 'He's hiding really, really well.'

'I see,' said Emily, nodding seriously at his explanation. 'Need some help?'

Jack nodded and tugged at her, making his move suddenly. She stood quickly to avoid toppling over. 'Where might he be?'

'He's in the house,' explained Jack. 'Cos that's the rules and I can't go outside the door. Plus we don't have a backyard, so I can't hide outside,' rambled the little boy, his eyes flickering over each room with very little effort to actually pull, push and look under various things.

Walking down the short hall, Emily spotted Hotch's bare feet peeking out from under the curtain in what must be Jack's room – a car bedspread on the single mattress a giveaway – as said room owner ploughed on right by, intent on the next room. Trying her best not to smile, she tugged on the little boy's hands. 'Maybe we should check in your room?'

Jack screwed up his face in concentration before he nodded. 'Maybe Daddy is hiding in there! Good job Emily!'

Emily leant against the doorway as Jack made a careful and calculated effort to check under his bed and in his wardrobe. Laughing at the mental image of Hotch trying to fit into that small space, she nodded encouragingly as Jack looked at her with a questioning look that seemed to say 'Are you _sure_ he's in here?'

Pulling back the curtain with a half-hearted attempt at finding something, it was difficult to know who was more surprised: father or son. Jack recovered the quickest as he pointed his finger up at the tall man looking considerably squished. 'Found you!'

Pulling back the curtain as far as it would go, Jack turned to his helper. 'Look Emily! I found him.'

'Good job,' she said with a smile as Hotch stepped free and looked at her in surprise. 'Emily!' he asked. 'How did you get in here?'

'Jack let me in.'

'Jack did eh?' asked Hotch, turning to his son who was now jumping on the bed in his attempt to be as tall as the adults talking in front of him.

'I checked first,' said Jack proudly with a big jump. 'I only let her in cos I knew who she was.'

'Well done,' praised Hotch as Jack jumped again. Feeling sorry for the bed, Hotch stepped around it and leaned in to kiss the new arrival. Emily flushed as she responded. 'It's good to see you.'

'Blergh! Kisses!' said Jack, covering his eyes comically as he took another jump. Hotch turned on his son next. 'How about I kiss you instead?'

'No Daddy! No!' called Jack in delight as he jumped from the bed to the floor. Dashing past Emily with his father in quick pursuit, the little boy dashed into the lounge room, rounded the couch several times and then raced for the kitchen, only to find himself cornered.

He laughingly resisted, kicking and shifting half-heartedly before he wrapped his arms tightly around his father and allowed himself to be thoroughly kissed.

Emily stayed back as she watched the scene. It was nice seeing Hotch so carefree.

A laughing Jack on his hip and looking a little breathless, Hotch turned to the woman he hadn't seen in several days. 'So what brings you out here?'

She reached into her bag then. 'I just realised that I had pictures from the last ultrasound that you hadn't seen yet. I've got another appointment on Tuesday, so...' she said held out a picture. 'I don't know why I didn't call first.'

'It's okay,' reassured Hotch as he took the image. Placing Jack on the kitchen bench, he allowed the begging child to look at the black and white image. Keeping hold of it in his grip, he continued to speak. 'How's the teaching coming along?'

Emily laughed as she rolled her eyes, leaning back against the bench on the other side of the kitchen, resting her hands on her swell. 'Were we all that wide eyed once upon a time?'

'No doubt,' grinned Hotch before their attention was diverted by a confused question. 'Where's the baby?' he asked, pushing the photo up into his father's face.

Easing it back, Hotch turned the image trying to find the head himself. It was Emily who stepped up and pointed her finger at the vital body parts.

'It's so small!' protested Jack, sighing dramatically. 'I can't play with it.'

'It will grow Jack,' laughed Hotch as he reassured his son.

Jack was still squinting at the picture when the phone rang, shattering the comfortable afternoon. As Hotch moved to the lounge room, checked caller id and then answered his phone with a formal 'Agent Hotchner speaking' Jack slid from the kitchen bench with a sigh.

Following the little boy to his room, Emily took a seat on his bed.

Jack spoke with a wiseness that belied his age as he pulled a bag from the wardrobe. 'That phone call means that Daddy needs to go work a big case,' Jack solemnly advised Emily as he put the bag on his bed. Carefully unzipping it, he continued to explain. 'He has to go catch bad people, so I have to go to Aunty Jessica's, and so I gotta pack a bag.'

'He's very good at catching bad people, isn't he?' ventured Emily.

'The best,' said Jack in a sure tone, nodding his head seriously as he reached for the toys on his bed, the stuffed animals taking up more than half of the bag space on offer. 'He's the bestest at catching the bad guys.'

'Thanks buddy,' said Hotch with a tight smile as he entered into his son's room, ruffling Jack's hair. As the little boy tried to hide his disappointment, Hotch's eyes sought out Emily's. 'Em, a word?'

Leaving behind the determined packer, Emily stepped into the hall with Hotch. She could see the stress on his face and as he spoke, she could see why. 'Jessica can't take Jack. She's away for four days and it had to be on those days that I got called out of state isn't it,' he muttered.

'You want me to take him?' Emily offered readily.

Hotch was startled. 'I was actually thinking more along the lines of you somehow taking my place on the team, but...'

'I can look after him,' said Emily, her tone firmer.

'Really?' asked Hotch as his hand clasped her elbow. 'I don't want to burden you and it's not my place to ask it of you ... Are you sure?'

'I wouldn't offer if I wasn't,' she reassured him. 'Besides, it will be a good opportunity for Jack and I to get to know each other a little better.'

His eyes bore into hers before he nodded his head and made his decision, squeezing her arm. 'Thank you Emily.' Dropping his arm, he ran a hand over his face. 'Now let me just explain this to Jack.'

Jack was struggling to zip up the bag stuffed to the brim with assorted toys and knick knacks – not a stitch of clothing in sight – when the adults re-entered the room. He could sense that something was up as he abandoned his efforts and stood back against his bed, hands behind his back. 'What?'

Hotch knelt down to Jack's level. 'Daddy has to go work a case on his own now,' he began. Jack nodded his head in agreement. 'I know. I'm getting my bag ready for Aunty Jessie's.'

'About that...' said Hotch, doing his best to hide his nervousness. 'Aunty Jessie's away remember?'

'Uh huh,' nodded Jack. 'She's on a plane to Milhawkie.'

'Milwaukee,' corrected Hotch and Jack suddenly realised what this meant. 'So who is going to look after me then?'

'How would you feel about staying with Emily?'

Jack gave it a long thought as his head rose and he eyed Emily warily. 'Do I get to stay and sleep here?' he asked.

'We can,' confirmed Emily.

'Do I get to have pizza for dinner still?' he pressed again.

'Sure,' nodded Emily.

'And I don't have to have a bath?' added Jack hopefully. Emily wasn't sure how to respond, but Hotch took care of it. 'Nothing gets you out of a bath kiddo,' he scolded lightly.

Jack's shoulders sagged in an exaggerated manner at the expected response. Standing upright again, he placed his hands on his father's shoulders where an equally serious face was reflected. 'Okay,' decided Jack. 'I'll stay with Emily.'

'Thanks son,' replied Hotch as he pulled his son in for a tight hug.

'You can stop hugging me now Daddy,' said Jack after a few moments. When Hotch eased back, his son pushed at his chest. 'You gotta go catch bad people!'

* * *

_Next chapter:_ Oh the joys of a childcare centre.


	14. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

Emily awoke to a strange sensation of a bedroom that wasn't her own. Looking around the room lit by the dull light of dawn, she suddenly remembered. She was at Hotch's house, in Hotch's bed – a place she had not been in four months, having not stayed overnight since that first eventful night.

The strange sensation of waking up in Aaron's bed was pushed aside as she recalled the _other _sensation – why she had woken up in the first place. Pulling back the sheets, she flew up from the bed. Moving quickly, she dashed the wrong way for the bathroom, her mind visualising her bedroom layout. Recovering, she managed to make it to the right place before she promptly threw up anything and everything in her stomach.

Now dry retching, she eased to the side for the washbasin. Washing out her mouth, she splashed her face with cool water and reached for the handtowel. Wiping her face clean, she had a sensation of being watched. Turning, she saw a little boy clad in car pyjamas standing in the doorway. He rubbed his eyes as he looked up at her in concern. 'Are you sick Emily?'

'Just a little bit,' she said in what she hoped was a steady voice, the steadiness not translating to her legs as she pushed off the basin. 'I get a little sick in the mornings.'

'But why?' enquired Jack curiously.

'Maybe the baby didn't like what I had to eat last night,' she offered as a quick answer. The less time she spent talking about this, the less chance there was of being sick all over again.

'The baby's hurting you?' asked Jack in horror.

'No kiddo,' she said, trying to hide her smile as she soothed his fears. 'I feel better already!'

'Are you sure?' asked the three year old, not believing her. He scrutinised her face in a manner much like his father before he grinned. 'I know!'

She was left wondering just what it was that he knew when he dashed from the room after this exclamation.

She was hanging up the towel when young Hotchner returned. She saw a delicate balancing act as he held an overstuffed teddy and a plastic cup in his hands. A few drops of liquid sloshed over the rim and onto the ground as he intently stepped forward.

Close enough, Jack looked up at her. 'Mummy always gave me milk to feel better,' he said gravely. 'And Daddy said that Agent Teddy makes sure that no more bad bugs come and make me sicker.'

Milk hardly ideal on her stomach at the moment, Emily nevertheless took the proferred cup before it met the floor and took a sip. She also obediently took Agent Teddy into her arms at the child's prodding. 'You know what?' she said brightly after another forced sip. 'I'm feeling a lot better already.'

Jack grinned. 'I helped make you feel better!'

'That you did,' agreed Emily, ruffling his hair. 'Now what should we have for breakfast?'

* * *

Agent Teddy was supervising the breakfast proceedings when the phone rang. Watching Jack pretending to feed the teddy bear his breakfast, then happily take a big bite of his toast, jam smearing all over and around his mouth, Emily greeted Hotch.

Listening to the worried father explaining the long list of things that Jack would need for childcare – the hat with his name on it (not the red one), a piece of fruit (not cut), closed in shoes (not flip flops), a chance of pants, a water bottle and his favourite toy – Emily quickly reached for a piece of paper and began scrawling a list. She was new at this and didn't want to forget anything. She'd heard stories from JJ about what Nazi's childcare centres could be if parents didn't follow their rules to a T.

Writing the last of them, she handed the phone to Jack so that he could talk to his father. Looking at the long list, she sincerely hoped that all these things were in one nice convenient place, ready for her to pick up.

Eating up the last of her cereal, she took the handset – now covered in sticky jam – back from Jack and placed it to her ear, only to discover that the phone was dead. 'Daddy had to go,' said the despondent child. 'Do you have to go too?' asked the child woefully as Emily wiped the handset clean. 'Can't you stay home?'

She was new at this, but she recognised puppy dog eyes anywhere. Cautious of their strengthening bond, but cognisant of the need to go to work, she treaded the waters carefully. 'I need to go to work too Jack,' she explained. 'And I can't leave you here by yourself can I?'

Jack shook his head sulkily. 'I'm not big enough yet.'

'Yeah, you're not big enough yet,' agreed Emily. 'I'll take you to the daycare centre, and then I'll pick you up later.'

'You're going to pick me up?' asked Jack, his interest piqued.

'Mm-hmm,' confirmed Emily. 'Your Aunty Jessica isn't back yet.'

'Do you gotta go to work?' asked Jack one last time.

'Yeah, I gotta go to work,' said Emily, feeling that this discussion was soon coming to an end.

'Alright,' he sighed in a dramatic manner as he slipped from his chair. The little boy picked up his empty plate and entered the kitchen. Standing on his tippy-toes he dropped the plastic plate into the sink with a loud clatter. Brushing his hands, Jack nodded his head. 'I gotta go get ready then.'

* * *

She'd managed to find everything, get out of the house at a reasonable hour and arrive at the childcare without disgracing herself too badly. But the accepting boy from earlier in the morning had suddenly become a touchy-feely child as she tried to convince him to go and play so that she could leave.

She was crouched down at Jack's level, the unhelpful childcare assistant standing nearby with a 'hurry up already' expression on her face. Jack stood in the V of her legs, eyes glued to the floor as he fiddled with her necklace. 'I don't want to go,' he protested. 'I want to stay with you.'

'I need to go too,' she tried to reason, but Jack wasn't feeling in a particularly negotiating mood. 'You won't be back for hours and hours,' he said in an exaggerated manner. 'How will I know when you're coming to get me?'

Emily had an idea then. Undoing the clasp, she slipped her watch from her slim wrist. Holding it in her hand, she sought out Jack's eyes. 'When the big hand is on the 12 and the little hand is on the 5, I'll come and pick you up,' she explained, her fingers pointing out the important numbers and arms. 'You can keep my watch with you until I pick you up.'

'I can?' asked Jack in awe. 'And you'll be there to pick me up then? Promise?'

'I promise,' Emily repeated, placing the object into his hand.

As Jack gingerly accepted the watch, the childcare worker spoke disapprovingly. 'It's not a good idea to give your son something so valuable.'

Emily stood up tall and turned to the young woman – Poppy her name badge read – as Jack clutched the watch to him possessively, pressing against the side of Emily's legs. 'It's not business what I do or don't do with my son, Poppy.'

Poppy shrugged her shoulders. 'We accept no responsibility if he breaks it or loses it,' she warned.

'Jack's a big boy,' said Emily confidently. 'He'll be responsible.' Jack puffed his chest out at the compliment.

As Poppy raised her hands in defence and moved off to a newly arrived parent and child, Emily knelt down once again. 'You alright to go now?'

Jack nodded his head. Pulling Emily in for a quick hug and kiss, he then firmly patted her rounded abdomen. 'Bye bye baby,' said Jack. 'I'll see you later.'

It wasn't until she was dashing down the hall to her imminent class that Emily realised she'd called Jack her son.

* * *

When her phone beeped impatiently just after 4:30 that afternoon, Emily startled. Hitting the stop button, she marvelled that the day had flown by. Beginning to pack up, she thanked her foresight in setting an alarm to alert her of the time. She couldn't risk breaking the promise and the fragile bond she'd built with Jack Hotchner by being late.

Checking her office for anything she might have forgotten, she locked the door and set off briskly for the childcare centre a short distance away.

Arriving at the surprisingly bland exterior that housed the FBI childcare centre, she smiled and held the door open for a man that stepped out with a baby in his arms and a child gripping his hand. Stepping into the bright foyer, she moved to the reception where she saw an unknown woman behind the glass. 'Hi, I'm here to pick up Jack Hotchner,' she said with a smile.

Expecting to be buzzed through easily like this morning, she was in for a rude shock when the unsmiling woman eyed her and asked for her name. 'Emily Prentiss.'

The receptionist tapped at the computer before she shook her head. 'Your name isn't listed as an adult to pick up Jack Hotchner.'

Emily noted the time on the clock above her, swearing inwardly. It was getting close. Keeping her face as neutral as possible, she leaned forward, looking at the woman through the steel-reinforced glass. 'I dropped Jack off this morning without any problem.'

'Well, that shouldn't have happened,' came the disapproving response. Emily got a flashback to the last time someone had spoken to her like that and wondered if Poppy was related to this frowning woman.

'I'm sorry, but there is no way that you can go in.'

* * *

_Next chapter:_ Will Emily get to Jack in time?


	15. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

_She did not have time for this. _

Stepping forward she placed her palms deceptively calmly on the bench before her. There was no disguising her intention when she spoke in a moderated tone. 'Call SSA Aaron Hotchner.'

You could cut the tension with a knife as a brief battle of wills was fought, eyes locked on one another.

Emily won.

'This is highly irregular,' muttered the receptionist as she turned to the computer, no doubt typing in Hotchner. Finding the page she wanted, she reached for the phone handset and keyed in numbers.

Looking away from the accusing gaze of the woman as the phone rang, Emily was surprised to discover that her knuckles were white in their grip of the laminate. Releasing her tight muscles, she adjusted her clothing, one hand slipping over her swell as she furtively hoped that Aaron would pick up...

* * *

'You still think your God is all good and gracious!' screamed Fergus Charles. 'What kind of God allows children to be kidnapped and chopped up into pieces?'

'Well at least I believe in something!' screamed back Ivy Charles. 'It's hurting me too you know?'

Caught between warring parents of their latest victim, Aaron Hotchner was more than willing to extricate himself from this highly sensitive situation when his phone rang. 'Agent Hotchner speaking,' he said automatically when he placed his mobile at his ear.

'Agent Hotchner,' confirmed the no nonsense voice. 'This is June from the childcare centre.'

Hotch felt his heart stop and he struggled to breath, the gory details of their latest victim still fresh in his mind. _Was something wrong with Jack? _

'Someone is trying to remove your son from the childcare centre.'

Common sense reigned over his mounting paranoia as he noted her word choices. _Jack was clearly safe for now. _'Who is this person you are speaking of?' he enquired, feeling nowhere near as calm as his voice belied.

'A woman named Emily Prentiss,' spoke the disapproving woman with a sniff. 'She doesn't have authorisation to remove your son.'

'Yes she does,' replied Hotch, his voice hard. 'I filed the paperwork on 28 March.'

He remembered that day clearly as it was the day that he had returned to work. Jack's wellbeing had been first and foremost in his mind, and the possibility that he may not be able to pick up his son from day care had weighed heavily. So he'd added Jessica's name to the authorised list of people to pick up his son and it had taken him less than a minute to decide to add the names of his fellow team members.

Anger coursed through him as the child care centre woman replied. 'Well, I'm sorry. There's no record of it.'

Meanwhile, Emily looked through the clear barrier and saw the woman shifting paperwork around on her desk. Deciding to take matters into her own hand, the next time the door at the end of the short hall opened and a woman stepped forward with her toddler, she made a move.

Flashing the mother and young daughter a smile in thanks, she slipped in. 'Ma'am!' came the voice of the indignant receptionist, her voice fading as the door closed. 'You cannot go in there...'

She ignored the call.

Knocking on the door to the big kids' room where she had dropped off Jack earlier that morning, the door was opened by a short plump woman with a welcoming smile on her face. 'Hello, how can I help you?'

_Time for some bluffing_. 'Hi, I'm Emily Prentiss,' she smiled. 'I don't have a swipe card.'

'Oh I understand,' said the woman, but she eyed the brunette warily, not permitting her full entrance. 'Is one of these little people yours?'

'Jack Hotchner,' confirmed Emily, chafing at the protective instincts of the carer, whilst at the same time appreciating that Hotch's son was in a very safe place.

'Mm,' said the woman, easing the door back a little. Emily edged into the room, but was forbidden from stepping in any further. 'If you will wait here please, I will see if ...'

She got no further as a little boy ran full pelt across the room. Steadying herself, Emily swung Jack Hotchner up into her arm. Mindful of his swinging legs, she balanced him on her hip and noticed that he hadn't let go of her watch. 'You're exactly on time!' declared the boy thrusting the timepiece up into her face, as the woman moved off, clearly satisfied that nothing was amiss here.

Easing the object back, she smiled ruefully. _Trust Hotchner Junior to be a stickler for details just like his father._ Having said that, she knew it was a close call.

'I looked after your watch really, really well,' the young boy continued, eagerly watching her response.

'I knew you would,' replied Emily, tears in the corner of her eyes as she slid him to the floor. Smiling in thanks to the woman who held out Jack's bag, she allowed Jack to slip the watch onto her wrist once again, assisting when the clasp was a little difficult, before she clasped his hand and left the room.

Holding onto the bag as she opened the door into the foyer, her charge ran for the heavy door that lead outside as she followed at a slower pace. Passing the reception, a stiff voice was heard. 'I apologise for the mix up,' came the pained apology.

Emily inclined her head in acceptance and left.

* * *

'Hey Emily?' called Jack from the backseat as they made their way home.

'Hmm?' she asked absentmindedly, her mind having wandered off for a short while.

'When did Daddy first notice you?'

Confused by the question, she sought out his eyes in the rear view mirror. Looking at the earnest boy, she asked for a clarification. 'What do you mean 'notice'?' she asked.

'Well it's like Daddy first noticed Mummy when they were doing a play called the Pirates of Pins and Ants,' explained Jack in his 'big' voice. 'So when did Daddy first notice you?' he asked.

Understanding his question now, Emily thought about her answer. 'Your Daddy and I met a really long time ago,' she began. 'Your Daddy helped my Mummy to look after people.' She guessed that was a semi-acceptable answer for glorified security.

'How old were you when you met him?' asked Jack, interested.

'Eighteen,' replied Emily as she stopped at a red light. Turning to the little boy, she smiled. 'Fifteen years older than you are,' she added.

To the young boy at a tender three years of age, eighteen years was eons and he ooh-ed appreciatively. 'You and Daddy have known each other for a long, long, long time!'

Sharing the story on the phone later that night after Jack had spoken with his father, she grinned. 'Feel old much?'

She heard the responding groan. 'I feel ancient,' he said wryly and she was glad to provide him with some short relief. 'How's the case going?'

'Not good,' came the short response. 'I won't be back in time for your ultrasound tomorrow. I'm sorry.'

'Perils of the job,' she said lightly as she wedged the phone between her jaw and shoulder, stirring the pot. 'I get it.' Her hand froze as she realised what she had just said. 'Not that Hailey didn't get it,' she quickly added, horrified that she might have slighted his late wife.

'I know Emily,' reassured Hotch.

Determined to brush away the heaviness of this conversation, she returned to a lighter tone. 'It's okay really. I'll just take Jack with me.'

He was quick to reply. 'You don't have to you know?' he said, and she could tell that he was concerned about placing more pressure on her. 'You can drop him of at daycare.'

'Hey, I don't mind,' she reassured him. 'It's his baby too.'

'You sure?'

'Yes, Aaron. I'm sure.'

Wrapping up the conversation, she called into the lounge room where the television was on. 'Jack! Say bye-bye to Daddy.'

'Bye Daddy!' shouted Jack from the couch.

'Get that?' asked Emily with a grin when she placed the phone to ear again.

'Got it.' There was a pause when neither spoke, Emily stirring at the pot, before Hotch spoke. 'Thanks Em,' he said heartfelt.

'Don't mention it.'

* * *

Tucking Jack into bed later that night, she prepared him for the following day. 'What do you say that you and I go on a little trip together tomorrow?'

Jack thought about his answer long and hard. 'Where are we going?'

'I have an appointment with the doctor,' she explained. 'They're going to have a look at the baby and make sure everything is okay.'

'I can come with you?' the little boy asked in awe.

'Sure,' she confirmed. 'As long as you're on your best behaviour though.' She thought his head might roll off in the vehement nodding that followed. 'Is Daddy coming too?'

Emily shook her head, quick to minimise disappointment. 'But I've got the next best thing going with me tomorrow.'

'Who?' asked Jack, his face screwed up in confusion.

'You silly!' she said, descending down to tickle the boy in the bed. Easing back after a few moments, she saw the mirth in his eyes as she tugged the blankets back up. Pressing a kiss to the forehead of the little boy that was fast worming his way into her heart, she spoke softly. 'Good night Jack.'

'Good night Emily.' His gaze shifted lower. 'Good night baby.'

* * *

_Next chapter:_ Jack begs to know.


	16. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

Stepping through the hospital doors, Jack held onto Emily's hand firmly. When she approached the reception, he released her hand and pressed his back against the counter. As Emily talked to the lady above him, he looked at the sheer variety of people that were passing him by. Bumping his body on and off the laminate, he waited patiently for them to finish.

'Have a seat Ms Prentiss, and we'll let you know when we're free,' spoke the receptionist, handing her patient a clipboard with paperwork to fill out.

The waiting room was crowded and Emily snagged one of the few single chairs. Putting clipboard aside for the moment, she reached for the little boy who looked uncertain of what to do. Placing her hands under Jack's shoulders, she eased him up onto her lap.

Wrapping both arms around him, she made a start on the paperwork, Jack watching intently. When she entered her details into the first line, Jack's finger pointed at her surname in confusion. 'That's not a H!'

Emily stopped writing as she looked into Jack's querying eyes. 'No, it's not a H. My last name starts with a P. It's P for Prentiss.'

'Why aren't you a H?' he demanded to know. 'Me and Daddy are H's and you're in the family right?'

_I am? _'Well,' she said slowly. 'Your Daddy and I aren't married, so that's why I'm not a H.'

'So what will the baby be?' asked the shrewd boy and Emily was thankful when he let her mention of marriage pass.

'H,' replied Emily, surprised that she didn't need to think about her answer. 'The baby will be H for Hotchner.'

'Hmm.' She could see him processing what he had just been told, and returned to filling out the form.

When her name was called twenty minutes later, she slipped Jack off her lap. The little boy held onto her hand as she followed the nurse into a room.

As she lay back on the table in the middle of the room, Jack looked uncertain of where he should be. The young nurse brought a chair over and Jack scrambled up. Emily smiled her thanks to the young woman as Jack planted his hands on the bed.

'Is this your first time seeing the baby?' asked the nurse brightly.

Jack nodded his head, his mouth wide open. 'My name's Leia. What's yours?'

'Jack,' said the little boy softly. He gained confidence as he pointed at Emily's rounded abdomen. 'And that's my sith-ling.'

'Sibling,' Emily gently corrected as she brushed the back of the little boy's head and a man stepped into the room.

'Well Ms Prentiss,' said the no nonsense ultrasound technician, head in a file. 'Let's find out how baby's going. Oh hello there...' Derek Lyons was surprised that his patient had a plus one, and a little one at that.

Emily held her breath. She hoped that the pause didn't mean that he was getting ready to throw out Jack from the room.

It didn't.

'Well, it looks like you've done this before,' he said in a matter of fact tone, flipping his folder shut. 'Is this your son?'

_How did she explain that one? _He's the son of the man who I slept with in a one-night stand, only to discover that we now have a much more permanent connection, and this is the same man that I am falling in love with more and more each day.

'He's my partner's son,' she answered safely.

Derek wasn't that interested in her answer, nodding as he pressed various buttons, Jack watching his every move. 'Rightio, let's get on with it.'

When Emily pulled up her shirt, Jack was rapt as he watched the man spread cold gel over her abdomen. His eyes threatened to boggle out of his head when soon after an image appeared on the screen on the other side of the bed. 'Cool!'

As the image moved and shifted, Jack wanted to share the coolness with Emily, but when he looked at her, she had tears running down her cheeks. 'Don't cry again!' declared Jack aghast. 'Daddy's not here!'

'It's okay Jack,' she said, laughing through her tears as she ruffled his hair. 'They're happy tears.'

Jack didn't look convinced, but his excitement meant that he couldn't keep his eyes off the screen as black, white and grey shapes shifted in constant motion.

With the air of someone who had done this countless times before, Lyons held the scanner in place on Emily's stomach as he looked at the screen. 'Do we want to know if you're having a boy or girl?' he asked with a bored air.

Emily opened her mouth to decline, having not intended to find out, but the words didn't get anywhere as Jack cried out 'yes!' loudly.

It didn't take the little boy long to clue onto the fact that Emily hadn't planned on saying yes like he had done. 'Please Emily!' he begged, bouncing on his chair as he clasped his hands together. 'I won't tell Daddy!'

She had a feeling that Hotch wouldn't have mind knowing, and she thought about it. 'It's our secret,' she decided, all seriousness as she faced Jack. _If Jack _did _reveal it to his father, it wouldn't be the end of the world. And at least this way, it was something they could share. _

'Our secret!' said Jack, overjoyed at being tasked with such a large responsibility, and thrilled to find out if he would be gaining a brother or sister.

'Well...' said Derek Lyons, patiently waiting for this discussion to end. 'You're having a...' Jack interrupted him urgently as he waved his hands in the air. 'You have to whisper it,' he cautioned. 'Or else it won't be a secret.'

Emily looked at the technician with an apologetic smile. 'Please?'

The man rolled his eyes and gestured for Jack to come closer. Whispering it into the little boy's ear, Jack's eyes nearly popped out of his head. 'Really?' he asked.

Lyons nodded his head, amused when Jack shifted up the bed to whisper his news into Emily's ear. The revelation of the sex of her and Hotch's child made her realise like never before that she was having his child and it took a moment for her to process this. In that moment, Jack backed away and shifted down the bed again.

'Hey baby!' cried Jack, placing his hand to tap where his unborn sibling resided. Instantly he realised that he had just planted his hand into the gel required for the ultrasound. 'Ergh! Sticky!' he laughed pulling it free. 'Slimy!'

Guessing where his hand was going next to wipe the mess clean, Emily's hand flew up to grip Jack's wrist as the technician signed off on a piece of paper with a flourish and left the room with orders for the nurse to finish up.

'Sorry,' apologised Emily to Leia as the door shut.

'No problems,' laughed the woman, reaching for some tissues. 'Though I must say that this is not a regular occurrence!'

Jack's hand clean, the nurse pushed the ultrasound machine back as Emily wiped her abdomen clean. Turning back suddenly, Leia's hand hovered over a large button. 'Did you want a picture?'

Both Emily and Jack were in agreement this time, though with varying levels of excitement. 'Yes please.'

Another appointment scheduled and the paperwork sorted out, Jack and Emily crossed the foyer. Jack was beside himself, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he clutched the ultrasound photo in his hand. 'I've got a secret! I've got a secret!'

Realising that she still had just over two hours until her early afternoon class, she decided to spend her lunch hour with Jack before she needed to drop him off at the daycare. Knowing that with no backyard at home, Jack's opportunities for playing outside were limited, she headed for the park on the outskirts of the hospital.

Watching him dash for the swings, still chanting 'I've got a secret!' over and over, she smiled as she half-heartedly covered up a yawn, propping up her head on the back of the bench.

She wondered how long it would be before everyone knew.

* * *

_Next chapter:_ You want me to move in with you?


	17. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

Three weeks later, Emily looked up from the stack of papers in her lap, putting a hold on her marking for a moment.

Jack ran around the house screaming loudly as two of his action figures did war midair. He jumped over chairs, dashed beneath tables and circumnavigated lounges, constantly on the move.

Emily then turned her head to where Hotch was in the kitchen cooking. Setting aside her papers, she adjusted her top when it rode up over her rounded abdomen. Standing up from the couch, she stood still as Jack dashed by once again, before making her move to the kitchen. Leaning back against the bench, she crossed her arms over her chest, resting them above her taut abdomen.

'Hey,' said Hotch in a distracted tone, nodding his head in her direction briefly as he moved around the kitchen.

When Jack began to use the kitchen as his landing strip, and after tripping over his son twice, Hotch finally ordered him from the room. Jack wasn't fazed, sending his action figures back into the air, heading for the dining table and declaring war, plastic meeting plastic in what appeared a rather violent one.

'I really wished I had a backyard or a conducive space for Jack to play in,' muttered Hotch at the stove.

With his back to her, Emily posed the question. 'Aaron, have you ever thought about moving into a new place? A house?' she elaborated. 'Somewhere for Jack to run around in?'

'Yes,' came the succinct answer and Emily was mildly surprised at his prompt response.

She was slightly nerved when Aaron Hotchner followed this short statement by turning to her. His dark eyes held hers, his body rigid. Suddenly nervous, she spoke again. 'How many bedrooms were you thinking?'

She realised straight away what she had just asked. _Ah... _

With Jack's yelling and screaming in the background, Hotch took a step toward Emily. Placing one hand on either side of her, he effectively trapped her between himself and the bench. His gaze never wavered as he answered. 'Three.'

He leaned in closer, only brought up when the swell that represented their unborn child knocked his stomach. Emily was just big enough to actually begin to cause some wide load issues.

Seeing Emily bite her bottom lip, her arms still crossed over her chest, but no verbal response to his answer, Hotch spoke again. 'Well, there's Jack's room, the baby's room...' He paused a moment, unsure of how to say what he was going to say next – if he even wanted to say it. '... and our room.'

He saw her blink. 'So three?' Emily clarified, her eyes uncertain.

'Three,' he confirmed. Her arms uncrossed and the profiler in him cheered at the victory (one barrier down!) as she placed her hands on his lower arms, her gaze never faltering. 'Why?'

That threw him. 'Well, it seems like the sensible thing to do,' he began, unsure. 'Financially, it makes sense. And Jack would get a backyard to play in. And that way the baby is in a house with both parents. We've never talked about what we'd do, and the next four months are going to fly by so fast and...'

'So it's purely a logistical decision, hmm?' Emily asked, her eyes narrowing.

Realising that he had made a big mistake in his seemingly logical explanation, Hotch hurried to correct himself. 'It's not only that Emily. I l...' His throat caught with words he couldn't say and he averted his eyes. 'I l... like it when you come over and you're with us.' She saw the pain when his eyes sought out hers once again. 'You've been good for both of us... For me.'

Emily realised that this was the most she had ever seen Hotch reveal about himself and what he was feeling. Knowing that it had cost him a lot to do so, she squeezed his arm in understanding. 'You want to make that move?' she asked softly.

Even though he had been the first to ask, it was as if she'd asked him for the first time. There was a mixture of emotions in his eyes before he finally answered. 'I want to make that move.'

The ramifications of what they were doing washed over both, and they were silent for a moment. Hotch's hands slid from the bench to bracket her swollen abdomen. He leaned in closer and she thought for a moment that perhaps he was going not kiss her, but at the last second, he pulled back. 'We need to ask Jack.'

'I know,' she said, her hand moving of its own volition to cup her partner's cheek. She brushed her lips against his before she left his embrace.

* * *

When Hotch floated the idea of a new house and Emily moving in with them with his son a short while later, he was surprised when Jack bolted from the table and ran from the room. He had thought they were past this.

Running a hand over his face, Hotch prepared to follow his son, but Emily placed a hand on his arm and told him to stay. She'd go after him. If it was her presence that was a problem, he was more likely to tell it straight to her face, rather than to his father.

She found Jack squatted down in his bedroom corner with a file opened on his small knees. 'Hey Jack,' said Emily softly, unsure of where he was at emotionally.

She eased down next to him, simply sitting down the beginning of what she suspected would be a very long list of things that would be increasingly difficult to do as she got increasingly bigger. Stretching her legs out before her, she looked at the boy who had yet to look at her.

Looking into the file in his hands, she was surprised to find pictures of houses. 'Where did all this come from?' she asked in confusion.

'Child care magazines!' replied the little boy, and when he looked up at her, she could see the excitement in his eyes.

'You cut out pictures of houses?' asked Emily, still finding it a little hard to believe.

'Yep!' declared Jack. 'I want this one.' Pointing at a large house, the young boy spoke its attributes happily. 'It's got a backyard, and a swing – a _tyre _swing – and it's really cool and it's...' Wondering why the woman next to him wasn't sharing in his enthusiasm, he turned.

Emily was pressing a hand to her side, her head bowed. 'Em'ly?' asked Jack in concern. 'Are you okay?'

It wasn't pain or cramping, but it was still shock on her face when she lifted her head. She saw Jack's worry and reached for his hand, placing it on her rounded stomach.

Jack looked at her in confusion before something moved beneath his fingers. His eyes opened wide. 'She kicked!'

Emily nodded her head, shifting his hand to anticipate where the baby might move next. 'The baby knows you're their brother.'

'Wait! Wait!' cried Jack, pulling his hand free as he jumped up. 'Daddy needs to feel this!'

Hotchner Junior dashed from the room and brought back a very concerned Hotchner Senior. Seeing Emily still seated on the floor, he moved forward. 'Em?'

Jack ignored the pleasantries and pulled him closer. 'It moved!' he said, jumping up and down as he dragged his father into his room. 'The baby moved!'

Both boys were on the ground within seconds and Jack pulled his father's hand, plonking it on Emily's abdomen with a little more force than intended. It was only Hotch's quick reaction to counter-effect the force that meant baby Hotchner did not receive an unwanted hit to the head. 'Need to be careful there kiddo,' he chastised gently. 'Not too hard.'

'Uh huh,' said Jack as Hotch pulled his son into his lap and Jack added his own hand to the increasing number of hands on Emily's bump. They didn't have to wait long.

As Hotch's eyes found Emily's, he was surprised to find her eyes shiny with unshed tears. He leaned in and pressed a deep kiss to her lips, but their intimate moment was interrupted when Jack called out happily, bouncing in his father's lap. 'Look, it knows me!'

Attention back on his son and the moving sibling, Hotch smiled. 'Who knows you?' he teased, playing the game like he had for the past three weeks. 'Your brother or your sister?'

Jack eyed him with a look of someone who had done this several times before. 'It's my _sibling_, Daddy,' he said in a very wise voice. 'It could be my brother _or _my sister.'

'You're not going to tell me?' asked Hotch, easing back as he tickled his son, keeping all limbs at a length from his pregnant partner.

'Nah ah!' laughed Jack, refusing to give up his secret, even under tickle torture.

When his son was breathless from the tickling, he eased up. With Jack lay sprawled between the adults, his head pillowed on Emily's leg as he gently tapped at her stomach, looking for more movement, Hotch took a seat against the wall. As Emily's head came to rest against his shoulder with a yawn, his eyes remained on his son.

He was clinging onto a faint hope that maybe everything would be okay, but there was one last thing he needed to do though.

* * *

_Next chapter:_ Emily talks to Jessica and Hotch talks to Hailey.


	18. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

**Author's Note: **Warning, this chapter is most certainly rated M at the end.

* * *

Aaron Hotchner took a seat on the stone bench conveniently situated right in front of his first love's grave where grass was beginning to grow. No longer did it bear the simple scrawled marker. Instead, a marble tombstone held the place of honour, a bouquet of flowers resting in the sunken vase nearby.

In bold text it declared to all 'Loving mother of Jack'. Reading those words, Hotch was struck anew on how true this statement was: Hailey had given up her life for Jack.

His thoughts drifted to his son then. Jack had been to the grave twice since his mother's death, and he had wondered if he should bring his son with him today. But when he had been invited to a sleepover with a friend from day care, he had dropped him off and decided to come alone.

Sucking in a deep breath, he was unsure of how to start. Whilst he knew that Hailey could not hear him, and a conversation in his mind would most likely do just as well, he felt that he needed to speak aloud, even if only to convince himself that whatever he was saying was true.

'You were my first love Hails,' he began shakily. 'And it was supposed to be forever. But...' He felt tears pooling in the corner of his eyes. 'Life threw us a curveball or two...' His heart clenched in remembrance - not only for Foyet, but for the countless times before he knew he'd let her down.

'I know this probably isn't what you had in mind when you asked me to promise that Jack knew about love, but you know me. It's so hard.' He took a deep breath. 'I love Emily, Hailey. And I love our unborn child. I've asked her to move in with me, but something is holding me back.'

He snorted under his breath. 'I'm not much of a profiler am I?'

'I know that it was my job that got in the way of our marriage – it wasn't that you stopped loving me or I stopped loving you. But as hard as it is for me now to face, love seems to have given me a second chance.' His hands gripped his knees. 'And I'm going to do my very best to not blow it this time.'

His eyes looked at the tombstone and he felt unsettled, a feeling that very rarely came upon him. A gust of wind, surprisingly cool in the hot weather, rushed by. It was not the only anomaly: cushioned by the air, a white lily floated aimlessly, yet with some innate direction.

Hotch's gaze had never left the tombstone when the lily crossed into his path. The flower twirled before him, before it fell to rest on his fisted hand. Reaching his other hand to pick the lily up, Hotch held it up in the air, his breath taken from him. He didn't miss it's significance: lilies in July and Hailey's favourite flower.

He took a cleansing breath as he fingered the petals reverently. 'Good bye Hailey,' he said softly. Standing, he placed the lily on the cold stone. Stepping back, his hands rested at his side. 'I'll bring Jack to visit soon.'

* * *

Her last class for the day done, and with the weekend stretched out before her, Emily Prentiss had one last thing she needed to do before she could embrace the blissfulness of no work for 48 hours.

Checking the scrap of paper in her hand, and seeing that the address was right, she walked up the steps. Knocking on the door, she smiled at the person who opened it shortly after. 'Jessica?' she asked as the woman ran her eyes over her figure. 'I'm Emily Prentiss,' she continued, trying to infuse as much confidence and warmth as she could without being overbearing. 'You may not remember me, but we met briefly at your sister's funeral.'

Jack's aunt nodded stiffly and opened the door. 'You're carrying Aaron's child.'

As she stepped into the house, the profiler within her wondered if she had crossed a line and Hotch's once sister-in-law was jealous of her. Pushing her analysing aside as she followed Jessica Brooks down the hall, she felt like she needed to explain herself. 'I'm so sorry about the timing,' she began awkwardly as they sat opposite each other on the lounges. 'It wasn't planned this way.'

'The way I hear it, it wasn't planned at all,' responded the blonde woman sharply, before she struggled to soften her words. 'I'm not sure this is what my sister had in mind, but Aaron seems to genuinely care for you, Jack doesn't seem to have a problem with you and you're all moving in together.'

Emily detected the sense of finality in Jack's aunt's voice and quickly set her to rights. 'I don't want to push you out of the picture,' she replied, horrified at the prospect.

Jessica shook her head lightly. 'You're his stepmother now,' she said lightly. 'I'm only the aunty. You're not going to need me as much now.'

_What could she say to that?_ Damnit, she should have spoken with Hotch first about his plans for Jack.

As if sensing the awkwardness and her inability to respond, Jessica plastered on a fake smile and moved onto another line of conversation. 'Jack is thrilled he is going to be a big brother,' she said, her tone just a little forced. 'I asked him the other day if he wanted a brother or sister and he clammed up. Apparently he already knows.'

'Yeah,' confirmed Emily softly. 'It's our secret.'

She wondered if she should share the secret with this woman, but Jessica forestalled her when she shook her head. 'I don't need to know. All I need to know is that whatever makes Jack happy, makes me happy.' Both women genuinely smiled at this comment and the tension eased just a little.

'Would you like a drink?' offered Jessica.

Emily nodded her head, taking the peace offering for what it was. 'A cold water would be great.'

Jessica Brooks and Emily Prentiss would never be the best of friends, but with a vested interest in the same two boys, they were willing to work at a relationship.

* * *

Standing in her lounge room later on, Emily Prentiss surveyed her belongings, her mind cataloguing what she wanted to keep, what Hotch had, and what space they might have.

It had been two weeks since they had decided to move in together. The house hunting had yet to begin, and maybe it was the pregnancy hormones making her insecure, but she had to wonder if Hotch was regretting their decision. He'd been acting strangely his past fortnight.

A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts.

Smoothing her long shirt over her leggings, she moved to the door and looked through the peephole. Speak of the devil. Whilst seeing him was not a bad thing, tonight it was unexpected.

Opening the door, Aaron Hotchner stood before her.

It wasn't the professional Hotch she knew, or the family man Aaron she was slowly getting used to. Instead it was an Aaron Hotchner who looked like he had been through an emotional wringer several times over and come out faring for the worse.

His head was bowed as he spoke. 'Are we really doing this?' he asked.

'We're really doing this,' she confirmed, pulling the door open wider. 'Want to come in?'

He didn't move from his position when his eyes met hers then. For all the exhaustion seeping from every pore in his body, the eyes that held hers were clear. 'I love you,' he said simply.

Whilst only three words, Emily was surprised at her powerful reaction to them. She stepped forward, bracketed his cheeks and kissed him. He responded with equal vigour and backed her into the house. Her mind vaguely processed that her door slammed shut before she hit a wall.

Needing to breath, her lips momentarily left his. Seeing his intense eyes sent shivers down her spine and her breath hitched as his lips came to cover hers again. 'Bed,' panted Emily.

She wasn't sure how they managed to get up the stairs and remove their clothes at the same time without tumbling down and breaking a bone or two, but a short while later she lay naked on her back as her lover stood before her.

Hotch could see the changes to her form: her abdomen had rounded out, leaving no ambiguity as to her current state, and he could see that her breasts had swollen. The last time he had seen her naked was five and a half months ago and he realised that it had been far too long.

'Well, if you're quite finished,' said Emily huskily, her eyes dark. 'Think you could get over here?'

He complied, brushing his lips over hers as he braced himself above her. 'You're beautiful,' he whispered and was amused when she flushed.

Leaving her lips, he began this journey down. Paying careful attention to one engorged nipple, and then the other, he felt Emily thrust a hand into his hair. Moving to the swell that encased their child, he pressed a gentle kiss against Emily's rounded abdomen as his hands came to each side for a moment.

One last kiss and he trailed open mouth kisses to her hips. Tracing her left thigh and then her right, he heard her breath hitch when he kissed the exposed skin above her curls. 'Aaron...' whimpered Emily and the maleness within him preened that he could make her feel this way.

Gripping her thighs, he moved down and eagerly lapped at her juices. He could feel her hand pulling tightly at his hair strands. As her head thrashed from side to side on the pillow, her other hand clenched the sheets.

He saw her nearing her peak and stopped his ministrations, much to her disgruntlement. She reached for him, pulling her up his body, desire in her eyes. Their legs were the only point of contact as he rose above her, determined not to place any weight upon her.

He could see her impatience, the desire in her eyes as she drew him down for a harsh kiss, tasting herself on his lips. Parting, he ever so slowly dropped his lower body to hers. He watched her face intently as he thrust within her.

Desperate to hold him, but with Aaron refusing to place any pressure on her, Emily flipped them. Fighting for control, her nails dug into his chest as she rode him. She could see his jaw muscles tightening as she headed for her peak once again, his hands gripping her hips tightly.

They came together with a muffled groan. He remained within her as she rested upon his chest, both breathing heavily. 'I love you,' he said once again.

'I love you too,' she repeated, her eyes turning up to him, satiated and happy. In his eyes, she saw that something was different, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. 'Everything okay?'

'Mm.' Hotch wasn't forthcoming with answers as he slipped from her, cuddling her to his side. Noting that he wasn't in a talkative mood, Emily traced patterns on Hotch's chest, vaguely realising the same pattern was being tattooed on her bare hip. 'I saw Jessica today,' she said softly.

'Mm?' said Hotch startled. 'You did?' he asked in confusion. 'Why?'

'I wanted to make sure she was okay with all this,' she replied, waving her hand between them. Her lover clasped her hand and rested it on his chest. 'And what did she say?'

'It will take some time,' said Emily tactfully.

'Speaking of Jessica, I spoke with her the other night too,' said Hotch wryly. 'Only my question was about how Jack was handling this all.' Pulling Emily tighter to him, he tucked her under his chin. 'I figured that Jack would be honest with his aunty more than he would be with me on this matter.'

'And?' prompted Emily, tensing for a moment as her face turned up to his.

'He's fine,' said Hotch softly, pressing a kiss to her lips. 'Just fine.'

* * *

_Next chapter:_ Moving Day.


	19. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

'Someone watch that baby!' called a female voice up the path.

Rossi plucked Henry LaMontagne back before he could dash into the incoming path of people movers. 'Go! Go!' cried the toddler miserably, wriggling to be put down.

'I think not kiddo,' said Rossi. 'Let's move you over here.'

As Rossi stepped into the house, Morgan was close behind with a box in his arms. 'Jack? Jack?' he called in voice with faux confusion. 'Anyone know a Jack around here?' he teased.

'That's me! That's me!' called Jack, running up to the dark skinned man, whereby he began to jump up and down.

'Well excuse me sir,' said Morgan in an exaggerated tone as Jack laughed. 'Lead the way.'

Emily grinned at the little boy's antics as she reached for a box of her own. 'I don't think so,' came a deep voice from behind her. Turning to face her partner, she raised her eyebrow. 'I'm pregnant, not an invalid.'

'You're pregnant and site manager,' corrected Hotch, removing the box from her reach. He kissed away any objection.

She was ready with a retort, but the loud cry of the latest arrival had her otherwise distracted. 'Emily!' trilled Garcia, her arms wide open. 'You're as big as a house.'

'Really helpful that,' she snorted as she accepted the analyst's tight hug. 'Think I could breathe Pen?'

As Garcia's exuberance then transferred to the genius struggling with an awkward box of his own, Emily grinned and headed for the kitchen. At least here she could unpack something, and she defied Aaron to tell her otherwise.

Looking at the open space in the kitchen, the light shining through the window to her left, Emily rubbed her seven month pregnant belly. With an ambassador for a mother, she was constantly moving around, and the places they stayed at had been cold and clinical.

Never mind the moving in together business, just moving into a house with a yard was a new experience for her.

From the window she could see the sturdy tree where Jack's much wanted tyre swing would hang. Obviously they couldn't get the same house that Jack had shown them in his magazine cut outs, but some crafty questioning by both herself and Hotch had revealed that whilst Jack loved everything about that house, it was the tyre swing that he was after.

So a tree sturdy enough and tall enough for a tyre swing had been high up on their list of requirements when house hunting. They'd begun to despair of ever finding a place, until one afternoon, after an afternoon long search with little success, they'd driven past this house.

Hotch had been all for home, but she'd felt a pull toward it. The home open hours were long gone, but she knocked on the door anyway and they were invited in for a tour by the owners. Jack's annoyance at _another _house had quickly faded when he'd seen the huge tree out back.

They'd signed the papers two days later.

Her introspection was interrupted by JJ. 'Hello? Earth to Emily?' she laughed. 'You looked like you were a mile away.'

'Sorry JJ,' she smiled, brushing her hair back from her face. 'You want to know where that box goes?'

'You read my mind,' said the blonde liaison.

'That one's green, so that's for the study,' said Emily as she rounded the kitchen bench. She stepped into the hall and pointed JJ up the stairs when she was suddenly hit by a little tornado.

She reached for her balance on the doorframe as Jack wrapped his arms around her as far as he could, resting his face against her swollen abdomen as he started a conversation. Emily remained patiently still as Jack had yet another one-sided dialogue with his unborn sibling. 'This is your new home baby,' he said excitedly. 'And guess what?' he gasped for effect. 'We have a swing. A _tyre _one!'

The excited boy toned down his enthusiasm just a little as he stood back and patted Emily's belly. 'But Daddy said you can't go on there for a while, so I'll keep practicing until you can.'

'You right there Emily?' asked Morgan with the slightest trace of concern as he came down the stairs.

'I'm fine Derek,' she smiled as Jack turned to the new arrival.

'Who were you talking to mate?' teased Morgan. 'Your brother or your sister?'

'I'm talking to _him_, because _she _needs to know we have a tyre swing,' he said seriously.

As Emily laughed, Morgan wondered when Hotch's son had gotten so smart, remembering it wasn't so long ago that their boss had announced he had a son. 'Not sharing eh?' he grinned as the little boy shook his head sombrely. 'Well, in that case, I need to borrow your muscles. There's a box or two out there with your name on it.'

Both boys raced out the door, dodging the other men entering.

'Incoming,' Hotch's voice was heard and shortly after, Rossi's back appearing as both men wrestled with a desk, Reid flittering around nervously, worried about the possibility of the sturdy piece of furniture fitting through the door and up the stairs, whilst Emily grabbed Henry before he could be trodden upon.

What had started out as a good idea to bring the kids had turned out to be anything but as Henry and Jack appeared to have consumed their body weight in sugar and then proceeded to run around madly. They were a duo of chickens running around with their heads cut off, a loud persistent yell coming from their mouths.

With the last of the heavy furniture in, Hotch slipped his hand to Emily's back where she was on hold ordering in food for dinner and looked at the energetic boy in wonder. 'Who are you and what did you do with my son?'

Emily grinned as she confirmed the order and Hotch moved off. Order dispatched, she froze when a particular ring tone rang through the house. Everyone knew that chime and JJ reached for her phone with dread, her son wrapped around her leg.

'How bad is it?' she asked.

'We're not going anywhere,' muttered Rossi, plucking the mobile from her grasp. Coughing and giving a very good impression of being extraordinarily ill, the experienced profiler managed to convince the other person on the other end of the line that none of the team was in any form to travel just quite yet. 'There's another team free?' he concluded. 'Excellent.'

JJ laughed incredulously when the call finished. 'I can't believe you just did that!'

'What?' feigned Rossi innocently.

* * *

After the truck had gone, the team had gone and the boxes piled all around most certainly _not _gone, Hotch stepped into the kitchen with Jack dozing against his shoulder. He saw Emily puttering from box to cupboard to bench to drawer. 'It can wait until tomorrow Em,' he said drily.

'I can't stand this mess,' she muttered, refusing to stop. Taking his hand from his son's back, he reached for hers, stopping her attempt to reach for another box. 'It can wait until tomorrow,' he said firmly.

She was ready to protest, but when she yawned – rather spoiling her objection – Hotch raised his eyebrow in amusement. He knew better than to verbally comment on her defeat, instead pulling her in the direction of the stairs.

'I need a shower,' moaned Emily as she reached the top, bracing her hands on her back.

Hotch nodded. 'I'll put Jack to bed. Be there soon.'

Turning to the left, he froze in his spot as he realised what he had just said. Turning back around to where Emily was looking at him, amusement in her eyes, he flushed. 'In bed, I mean. Not the shower.'

Emily grinned, a yawn again disrupting her intent once again.

Marvellously clean and lying on her side in the freshly made bed, Emily was mere moments away from falling into a deep sleep when Hotch entered the room. Vaguely sensing his presence, she felt him slide into bed with her shortly after, pulling her close.

Reaching for his hand, she rested it upon her swollen abdomen. Baby was kicking up a storm and she knew that Hotch loved the feel. Her energy levels were fast dropping, and not even an assault on all her internal organs was going to stop her from sleeping tonight.

Shifting to be comfortable, she felt him settle behind her. She was almost comatose when she felt him press a kiss to her neck.

'Welcome home.'

* * *

_Coming up:_ The birth of Emily and Hotch's child was never going to go smoothly was it?


	20. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

Aaron Hotchner awoke in the dark when his phone rang. Freeing a hand, he reached out to grasp the ringing offender, easing into a seated position as he answered crisply. 'Agent Hotchner.'

'Where?'

'I'll be there in 20.'

Emily Prentiss came out of her sleep with the vague notion that something was going on. Flipping her hand to where her partner usually lied, she found warm heat, but no body. Too tired to move, she grunted out a question into the darkness. 'Mm?'

Hotch stood before her, tucking his shirt into his pants. Task complete, he slipped down onto the bed next to her. Brushing her errant strands of hair back from her face for her, he softly explained. 'I've been called out. But it's local and I'll call you when the sun is up.'

Vaguely processing what she'd just been told, Emily nodded sleepily, having no energy with which to generate a response as Aaron pressed a kiss to her lips and rested his hand on her very swollen abdomen. He received a firm kick as he rubbed her distended belly.

_Three and a half weeks to go,_ he thought to himself as he reached for his suit jacket and left.

* * *

Arriving at the hospital, he headed over to Rossi. 'What's the situation?' he asked, dispensing with pleasantries.

Rossi nodded as they began to walk. 'We've got a man who has locked himself in the nursery with the newborn babies one floor up. He's refusing to talk to anyone.'

'How many babies are we talking?' asked Hotch as they stepped into the elevator.

'Nurse on watch said nine,' replied Rossi. 'But Morgan and Reid are there now and they are only counting eight.'

Hotch nodded. 'Do the parents know?'

'JJ is with them now.'

When they stepped off the lift, an exasperated voice could be heard down the hall. 'This had better be good. Now who here is in charge of interrupting my evening?'

'Agent Hotchner, head of the BAU,' said Hotch, flipping his badge as he approached the angry man. 'And you are?'

'Miles Harrogate,' replied the overweight man, rising to his full height as he spoke his position. 'Head of the hospital.'

It was lost on Hotch. 'Are you aware of the situation here?'

'What situation?' he asked annoyed.

'There is a man in the nursery waving a gun around,' said Hotch. 'I think your patients will require your attention.'

'Oh Gods,' said the portly man, running his hand over his sweating face. 'I need to call my lawyer.'

As the frantic man moved away and frantically pressed at his mobile phone screen, there was thinly veiled disgust on Rossi's face as he turned to his friend. 'Well, he's going to be a great help.'

'Let's go.'

* * *

Two hours later, the phone rang in the Hotchner-Prentiss household. Emily noted caller id and lifted the phone to her ear. 'Hi Aaron.'

Jack, hearing it was his father, got out of his chair and raced over, stretching his hand out. 'Hang on a minute,' she said to her partner, seeing Jack bouncing up and down before her. 'Your son wants to talk with you.'

Young Hotchner had not been impressed when he woke up that morning to discover that his father was not home. 'Are you going to make it?' Jack demanded to know without ceremony.

Hotch checked his watch, mentally calculating the time until his son's preschool induction morning. 'I'll meet you there,' he promised. After a quick conversation with Jack, he finished up. 'Put Emily back on the phone.'

Jack was almost skipping back to the table when Emily spoke into the phone once again. 'You're going to be there?' she checked.

'I'll be there,' he promised. Seeing Reid waving his arm to get his attention he hung up the call and made his way over.

_Let us hope that the unsub wanted to talk._

An hour later, the most progress they had made was getting milk into the nursery with an agent who had nursing training and experience with infants in order to feed the crying babies. No closer to getting through to their target, and with utmost trust in his team, Hotch advised that he would be away for an hour.

* * *

They were running late.

Jack had changed his shirt four times, she'd forgotten the car keys and almost been locked out, only then to discover she'd left her wallet inside, and now as she pulled up at the school, there wasn't a car park in sight.

Parking illegally on a kerb, she held onto Jack's hand as they made their way as quickly as possible to the preschool rooms – as quick as a woman who had just entered her nine month of pregnancy and a little boy who needed to tie up his shoelaces could anyway.

Recognising the tall man in the suit standing outside what would be his new class room come the new year, Jack let go of Emily's hand and ran for his father. Hotch swung his joyful son up into his arms, and had the offending lace tied by the time Emily reached them.

They were the second to last ones in and were greeted by a blonde haired woman who invited them to look around.

Letting Jack take him from play area to play area, Hotch had to leave when the teacher called them all over for a book half an hour later. Emily had been seated on the edge of the playmat since arrival, seeking to be comfortable in her cross-legged position, and Jack sat down next to her, leaning against her side as Hotch knelt down behind them.

Pressing a kiss to both, he nodded apologetically to the teacher and the winced at the disapproving glare of the teacher's aide as he slipped from the room.

* * *

Meanwhile at the hospital, Morgan looked into the nursery viewing window where the unsub was shifting bassinettes. 'What on earth is he doing?'

'It's like he's cataloguing them,' said Reid. 'Girls on one side, boys on the other.'

'What does he want?' asked JJ, throwing her opinion forward. 'An heir?'

'It's possible,' said Rossi. 'Though we can't make assumptions as to his intentions.'

'Ah guys,' Reid ventured. They all looked to the young genius as he pointed at the window. 'He's talking on a mobile.'

Morgan whipped out his own fast, hitting speed dial number 1. 'The unsub's on the phone baby girl. I need you to …'

Garcia interrupted, and he could hear the tapping keys in the background. 'Way ahead of you handsome.'

The four of them kept their eyes ahead and they saw their unsub waving his arms about, an angry expression on his face. Not for the first time, Morgan regretted that windows were soundproof. 'Baby girl, please tell me you have something. Who's he talking to?'

'I'm trying my great master,' said the bubbly technical analyst. 'But it's hard to get a tracker on this one. It's bouncing between towers.' She sighed heavily. 'All I can tell you is it's local. Damn, he hung up.'

Feeling their chances slipping away from them, still unsure of what in the devil he wanted, the tables suddenly turned when the man moved to the back of the room, his back toward them. They all held their breath as he turned back to them, a sheet of paper in his hand.

He pointed it at the window and all squinted to read the text. 'My name is Brent Fulham...' started JJ.

'...and I want to speak with the person in charge,' finished Rossi grimly.

* * *

The kids were playing on the equipment outside as the parents and guardians received last minute information from the teacher. As the induction drew to a close, Emily groaned inwardly, knowing she now needed to leave her comfortable seat on the ground and stand up.

She gripped the child sized chair nearby and heaved to her feet. Picking up Jack's backpack with only a little difficulty, and a sheaf of papers in her other hand, courtesy of the teacher she headed outside.

Smiling to some of the other parents she'd met, she spotted Jack racing down the slide with his new best friend Zach.

Calling him away with some effort, she tried to keep up with the excited boy who raced around her as he retold the whole day as if she had never been there. 'How about we save this energy for when you tell Aunty Jessica all about your day at lunch, hmm?' she suggested as they reached the car.

'Oh yeah!' he said loudly, punching the air. 'I'd forgotten.'

Arriving at the shopping centre, she happily transferred the rambunctious boy off to his aunt. Leaving the duo for a celebratory lunch together, she headed for her car.

Pulling out into traffic, she groaned when she was stuck behind a Volvo driven by someone who was no doubt one of the species that had given Volvo drivers a bad name in the first place. Overtaking one car, her eyes sought her rear vision mirror once again when she saw a car behind her do the exact same thing.

_You're just being paranoid_, she told herself. Throwing off the suspicion that she was being followed, Emily wrote it off as tiredness and headed home.

* * *

The unsub refused to speak with anyone less than the head of the team, and thus the team had an anxious wait for Hotch to return as Garcia began digging furiously, searching for the history on Fulham.

Hotch was back soon enough, all business as he marched to the nursery once again. Signalling for the other end of the radio that Fulham had consented to being passed through to him, Hotch began to speak.

It was a backward-forward tease between the kidding Fulham and stoic Hotchner for the rest of the morning and past lunch.

When Brent James Fulham ceased negotiations to answer his phone not long after 2, Garcia was ready. But the call was far too short for her to do anything with it.

Her annoyance soon turned into disbelief when she discovered that Fulham had ended the call, reached for a white blanket and waved it in the air, announcing that he was surrendering.

Morgan looked to his boss in concern. 'What's with the sudden change of heart?'

'I don't know,' said Hotch warily, eyes on where Brent was willingly being led from the room by local police as hospital workers rushed into the room to check on the infants. 'But we're going to find out.'

Back at Quantico, they couldn't fight the feeling that something was off as Hotch interrogated the man who had terrorised the nursery. When he confessed that he had been looking for the newly born child that his girlfriend had hidden from him, and admitted that he probably should have gone about it in a better way, Morgan wasn't the only one sceptical.

'Why should we believe your story?' pressed Hotch in the interview room, standing with his arms crossed over his chest.

'Well, it's the only one I got,' said Fulham, resting back on his chair, not a care in the world.

'How can we check your story?' continued Hotch, his tone flat. 'Got a number for your girlfriend?'

'Gee, I really wish I did, but like I said, I haven't spoken to her in months,' replied the unsub, opening his arms up in a very un-sorry gesture. 'So sorry.'

Hotch refused to be baited. 'Who was on the phone?' he asked, changing the line of questioning.

'On the phone?' the cocky man asked as if he had no idea what he was talking about.

'Who were you speaking with before you so conveniently surrendered into our presence?' elaborated Hotch.

'Oh him?' said Brent, brushing it off. 'He just wanted to call with a new business idea.'

'A business idea?' repeated Hotch slowly.

'What can I say?' laughed Brent. 'I'm a brilliant marketer, and brilliance comes with the necessity of accepting calls at whichever which hour.'

'Right.'

Hotch stepped to the door then, gesturing for two agents to take custody of the grinning unsub. As the cocky man passed by the BAU boss, he looked him in the eye. 'Shame I didn't find him, eh?' he said. 'The baby.'

Watching Brent Fulham jauntily head off, and feeling unsettled, Hotch checked his watch. Finding his team, he addressed them. 'It's been a long day and an early morning. Head home and I'll see you all tomorrow.'

As all expressed their pleasure at the prospect, Hotch reached for his phone, glad to actually be heading home early for once.

* * *

Emily was watching the news coverage of the hospital incident and standing at the kitchen bench when he called. Brent Fulham's face was plastered on the screen when she pressed mute. 'Hey Aaron,' she said. 'Got it all wrapped up?'

'Mm,' said Hotch as he cleaned up his desk. 'How was your day?'

'Built the baby's bed,' she said nonchalantly.

'You didn't,' clarified Hotch, standing stock still with files in his hand.

'No, I didn't,' Emily smirked, wedging the phone between her jaw and shoulder as she turned her attention back to her task.

'What are you doing?'

'Making choc chip scones,' she said with relish.

'You're supposed to be resting Emily,' he sighed, resuming his clean up duties.

'Well, I'm hungry,' she retorted, pushing the dough, a puff of flour shooting out.

'Okay! Okay!' he replied quickly. 'Jack back yet?'

'Nh-nhh,' replied Emily. 'Jessica will be bringing him home soon.'

'Okay,' said Hotch as he snapped his briefcase shut. 'I'll be home soon too. Love you.'

There was no hesitation. 'Love you too.'

Hanging up the call, Emily held the handset against her chest as she switched the volume back on as JJ came onto the screen. '… the man in question has been apprehended and thankfully no one was …'

Her mind half on her press conference, she turned to move to the cupboard for the choc chips. She didn't get very far as a very familiar looking man stood before her with a gun levelled on her. 'Put down the phone.'

Her mind was reeling with the implications of what was happening as she stepped backward, her lower back hitting the kitchen bench as she obediently threw the phone off to the side. 'Who are you and what do you want?' she asked with more confidence than she felt.

The man stood up to his full size. 'My name is Clint Fulham,' he said. His voice was measured, as was his next movement: dropping the gun to point at her abdomen. 'And you're going to give me my child.'

The doorbell sounded.

* * *

_Next Chapter:_ Hotch arrives home.


	21. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

When Aaron Hotchner arrived home, he knew instantly that something was off. Gun in hand, he slowly opened his – unlocked – front door and eased it open gently. Gun and eyes running over the hall, he found nothing.

Glancing at the lounge room, he saw nothing and his sense of foreboding deepened as he entered the kitchen.

There on the counter were the remnants of Emily's craving. There were no choc chips in sight and a pile of dough sat in the middle of the bench. He reached for his phone, his finger reaching for speed dial for Morgan as he stepped around the bench.

Something caught his eye and he switched his speed dial to Penelope Garcia.

He ignored her cheerful greeting as he got to the point. 'What link does a 'Clint' have to Brent Fulham?'

He had the answer in seconds. 'Clinton John Fulham is Brent's identical twin brother,' she spoke breathlessly. 'Also 32 and lives out of state and ... Hotch, he failed medical school.'

'Get the team to my house,' he ordered. 'Now.'

'What's going on?' she asked, but he hung up on her. His eyes were trained on the letters that Emily had drawn in the flour on the bench when fear took hold of him and he realised something else. 'Oh Gods. Please don't...'

He hit speed dial number one. 'Aaron,' came the breathless voice of Jessica Brooks. 'I'm at the hairdressers. Can this...'

'Do you have Jack with you?' he interrupted.

'No I don't,' she replied in confusion. 'I dropped him off half an hour ago. Emily was home.'

'Shit.'

'Aaron, what's wrong?' she asked, now genuinely concerned. Her nephew's father never swore. 'You're scaring me.'

He didn't mince his words. 'An unsub's taken them both,' he said harshly. 'He's got Jack and Emily.'

'Oh no.'

He didn't have time to explain when the familiar ring tone of Emily's phone sounded. He followed the tune to the hall table and hung up on Jessica. With shaking fingers, he noted the two missed calls and picked up the phone. 'Hello?' he began neutrally.

It was a cocky man who spoke. 'You're invited to celebrate the coming birth of Elijah Fulham,' he taunted.

'Where is she you bastard?' yelled Hotch, losing control. 'Where is she? Where's my son? What have you done with them?'

'Tsk, tsk,' said the suave man. 'You've already got one little boy, so I think it's only fair that this one be mine for the taking,' he suggested agreeably. There was a laugh on the other end of the line that chilled Hotch's bones before Clint Fulham hung up.

He didn't even need to call Garcia, his phone ringing already. 'Sir, I've got the position.'

'Talk to me Garcia,' he ordered, running for the car.

* * *

Emily bit her bottom lip as she tried to prevent any noise escaping from her mouth as another pain ripped across her abdomen.

When the doorbell had sounded, the man with the gun had been between her and answering. She'd thought of running, but then realised that the best thing she could do was pretend that no one was home, and keep whoever was on the other side of the door safe from this madman.

Clint Fulham had had other ideas though. 'Answer the door,' he ordered. 'Send them away.' As she shuffled forward, he warned her. 'Try anything funny and they're dead.'

Fearing for her life and her unborn baby's life, she eased out of the kitchen and down the short hall. Composing herself, she opened the front door and her heart sunk.

It was Jessica and Jack.

'Hey Emily,' said the flustered blonde woman. 'Sorry. I'm running late, but I've got a hairdresser's appointment, so I can't stay and chat. Jack's just grabbing his bag and art and then I'll be off.'

'Take Jack with you,' begged Emily quietly, keeping her tears at bay.

'I'm sorry, but I'm really late,' apologised Jessica, her head deep in her bag as she searched for something. Emily couldn't beg anymore as Jack flew up the path, dashed past her and into the house. Fearing for Jack's safety, and Jessica's too, she'd ignored Jessica's late 'Emily?', made a swift good bye and shut the door. Turning, she had seen Aaron's worst nightmare.

Clint Fulham held a long needle in his hand as he waved the sharp point warningly at the little boy trapped in his arms.

Jack's eyes were full of terror as he looked at her. Willing him to stay calm, her own heartbeat racing and her unborn child kicking madly, she forced herself to be calm too. 'Don't hurt him. I'll do whatever you want,' she added. 'Just don't hurt him.'

'There's no reason to hurt this precious boy of yours if you do exactly what I say now is there?' he replied conversationally. His tone hardened then. 'Get me your phone.'

Sending Jack a silent promise that she would be right back, she entered the kitchen quickly. Misjudging her pregnant belly, she almost knocked the counter top and nearly overbalanced to counteract it. Her fingers finally grasped the phone.

There was no time for her to do anything as she moved as quickly as she could back to where the unsub was holding her son hostage. Willing to bargain, she held out the phone. 'Give me Jack.'

The little boy was thrown at her dismissively as he wrenched the phone from her grasp. Jack's arms were around her instantly and she held him tight to her side. 'It'll be okay Jack,' she whispered as he gripped her just as tight. 'It'll be okay.'

She'd heard his footsteps next and turned. He dropped her phone onto the hall table and was approaching her with the needle held high. He pressed the end just a little and a drop of liquid spouted out of the long needle on the other end. She shielded Jack, not wanting him to see whatever this madman was about to do.

He'd continued to come to them.

Close enough, she'd felt fear take hold of her as she held Jack tighter with one arm, her other arm coming across in a futile attempt to protect her unborn child. He leant down – a sickening combination of bleach and detergent wafting over – as he whispered into her ear. She'd felt the needle smoothly enter her side. 'Let's go for a drive, shall we?'

The contractions had started instantly.

And they hadn't stopped since: the drive, the walk, the cell – birth was imminent throughout it all. As the latest contraction passed, she made sure not to squeeze the little boy fixed to her side too hard. Thankfully Clint hadn't been interested in Jack and let him be. He only had an obsessive interest in her soon-to-be-born child.

'Are you okay Emily?' asked Jack tremulously, his eyes wide on her face and she could see that he was trying his hardest not to cry.

She couldn't answer as the door flew open. Struggling to rise from her position, she nonetheless pushed Jack behind her.

'So how goes the birth of my son?' asked Clint with a gleeful laugh and rubbing hands to match.

She was tempted to roar out 'the baby's not yours', but she needed to keep him believing his fantasy for as long as she could so that someone could get to them. She knew the very survival of the two – no, three of them – depended on her keeping a cool head.

Sweat was pouring down her face and her hope of keeping the unsub calm (ish) was almost blown when Jack piped up from behind her. 'But, it's not...'

She clamped her hand on his mouth as she spoke loudly, covering any sounds from the little boy behind her. 'I need to be in a hospital.'

'Nonsense,' scoffed Clint. 'I'm a fully trained midwife.' He stepped forward and patted her head. 'You're in good hands.'

She felt the bile rise within her. Anger flashed and her leg kicked, making contact with his shin. 'Bitch!' the unsub screamed, backhanding her. Struggling to stay upright, Emily kept her hand up to keep Jack back.

She could feel another pain building as he stood above them. He looked ready to kill them then and there before the anger left his face and he was emotionless. 'I'll be back soon,' he said lightly. 'That baby is coming out now, one way or another.'

The door slammed and bolts fell into place.

Jack stood behind her, arms around her neck as another contraction pulled her muscles tight. Holding his little clasped hands as she rocked back and forth, the pain in her cheek pounding, tears filled her eyes at her little boy's next words. 'Daddy will come,' said Jack certain, refusing to cry.

'Daddy will come,' repeated Emily, for her own sake as much as his, as another contraction followed fast, more painful than the last.

'Daddy will come.'

* * *

_Next Chapter:_ Hotch fights to find Emily and Jack.


	22. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

Hotch threw his car into park, already wrenching open his door. His gun was raised as he surveyed the house before him. There was nothing special about it – a porch with a door and two windows at the front and a second floor that had a balcony wrapping around the length of the house.

It was a secluded building, off the main road at the end of a gravel road.

He walked up the path warily. There was no indication as to anyone being at home, and the grass was growing knee-high beside him. But this was where Garcia had told him the signal was coming from and he moved on. Trusting his team to arrive with back up soon, but not willing to waste another minute, he reached the porch.

He tested the door gingerly and found it unlocked. He had a sinking feeling that this was all to easy and struggled to still his anger and fear as he stepped in. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the gloom, but when they did, he saw it.

There seated mid-way up the stairs was someone that could only be Clint Fulham. He was dressed in green scrubs, a scalpel in his hand. He raised the implement with vague interest into the air as he nodded his head, acknowledging his presence.

'Oh good. You made it.'

* * *

Morgan walked at a furious pace into the BAU offices. Flinging open the glass door, he ignored the startled glance of the man seated at the computer closest, making his way over to the concerned group standing near Reid's desk. 'Where is Brent Fulham?' he demanded to know.

Rossi indicated his head to the door. 'He's in custody.'

'Check,' Morgan ordered and Rossi moved to comply. 'I want him in high security until this is resolved.'

JJ came dashing in the door then. 'I got the call,' she panted out. 'What's going on?'

Morgan turned to the media liaison to explain, but turned back when Rossi slammed down the handset. 'He's escaped.'

'He's what?!' said Morgan angrily.

'How?' asked Reid.

'They let him go to the toilet and he charmed them into letting him go alone,' replied Rossi in a tense voice. 'They found his cuffs dangling from a tap.'

Morgan flipped his mobile out. 'Mama, I need those magic fingers of y ours.'

'At your service,' came the voice devoid of its usual bubbliness.

Armed with the knowledge that Brent Fulham had carjacked a pool car, and that Garcia was easily following his route via GPS, Morgan ordered Rossi and JJ to get a car of their own and follow him.

Gesturing for Reid to join him, he made for where Garcia had advised Hotch now was. Their boss - and Emily - were going to need all the back up they could get. 'Have local PD meet us there, but do not – I repeat do not – do anything until we get there.'

Pulling off the main road, Morgan pulled over when he saw the hidden police car. A balding man came up to him as he stepped out of the car, all business. 'Captain Chip Lamont, we've got eyes on the house but no one has gone in and no one's come out. There's one car parked in the driveway and we reckon it's your man's. '

'Who owns this place?' Reid asked.

'Kelley family,' replied Chip. 'They used to use it as a summer holiday place, but it's been deserted for a few years, ever since...'

'Cap'n!' interrupted a female cry.

'What have you got Jo?' he asked into his radio.

'Car incoming.'

'Get out of sight!' Morgan ordered as he waved his arms. The last man had just pulled himself out of sight when a black SUV – standard FBI issue – trundled past on the beaten path. His high speed had rocks flying.

Morgan didn't need to look to know that the man with the maniac face was Brent Fulham.

* * *

Hotch trained his eyes and gun on him.

Clint seemed to be in a fantasy world of his own and the gun didn't faze him at all, continuing speaking with a nonchalant air. 'You must be Aaron Hotchner. My brother spoke of you. It was so kind of you to watch my child these past nine months.'

'Eight months,' he corrected automatically, gritting his jaw.

Clint shrugged off the correction. 'What is a few weeks here or there? I've seen babes born twelve weeks early and survive.'

'That's not the only thing you're going to see,' Hotch warned struggling to keep his tone neutral as he felt the anger boil within him. 'Where are they?'

'Now, now,' admonished the man, but Hotch's eagle eyes didn't miss his glance off to his right. 'My son is going to be arriving anytime now and we need to get ready.'

Hotch warily placed his foot on the bottom step, gun remaining on the kidnapper of his partner and child. Clint was almost to the top when he spoke again. 'How do you know it's a boy?' Hotch dared to ask. 'She might be carrying a girl.'

He saw the man in scrubs tense at the top of the stairs and turn to him. This was the first crack in his armour and he took the opportunity it presented.

Dashing up the last steps he ducked, charging full steam ahead. His shoulder made contact with the unsub and they both flew back into the wall.

He felt the scalpel stab into his shoulder and winced in pain. Gripping the wrist that held the scalpel, he pulled it free as he eased back. He gave Fulham no chance to recover as he punched him.

Clint retaliated and Hotch ducked as he let loose a punch of his own. Taking a step back, the agent teetered dangerously on the top stair. He ducked again and stepped away, spinning to be back against the wall.

Hotch's fist was already in motion to punch when a car door slammed shut. His opponent spared a glance to look down the stairs and that was the moment when Hotch's fist connected with his jaw. Balance lost, Clint Fulham toppled backward.

His one last hurrah was to grip Hotch's shirt as he did so. There was nothing to stop him as they both tumbled down the stairs.

* * *

Emily struggled up from her seated position.

She refused to remain seated if there was something she could do, especially with the knowledge that Clint Fulham could return at any time.

She refused to think of what that meant.

Her short path to the door was interrupted by two contractions. 'Not now. Not now. Not now,' she chanted, wishing she could believe it.

She was bent over, gripping her abdomen, panting heavily, when she noticed that Jack too was trying to help her. He was tugging at some metal contraption that was sitting in the corner, but it was much too big for him to shift.

She reached for the door, desperately grappling at the bolts and locks. She found loops where a set of bolts once upon a time had been on this side, but she had nothing to fill it with. It was difficult to think through the pain and she rested her head against the cool wood, whimpering as another contraction ripped through her.

They were coming far too fast.

Somewhere at the back of her mind she could feel Jack tugging at her shirt, but she was in a haze of pain and struggled to focus on him.

They both froze when a loud noise sounded.

They were both breathing heavily and it took her several long moments to realise that it wasn't the sound of bolts and locks unlocking. Her concern disappeared abruptly as her pain intensified. She fought the urge to push, as she whimpered for Jack to get away from the door.

Vaguely, she saw him drop something on the ground as she pulled him back into a corner.

* * *

Hotch groaned.

He was struggling to breathe and opened his eyes with difficulty. He was bruised and battered as he pushed the heavy form off his body and scrambled to his feet with a hiss of pain.

The sight he saw made him want to be retch.

Empty eyes stared up at him. Clint Fulham's head was at an unnatural angle to his body, the trip down the stairs having not been good to him.

Preparing to turn away, his eye caught a set of keys now free of the scrubs pocket. Ducking down to pick them up, he winced as he felt a bruise. Plucking them free a gunshot sounded and a bullet sank into the wall above him – exactly where he had been standing just a second ago.

He swivelled on his feet, remaining crouched down, hand seeking the gun that was not at his hip. Looking up, he saw his very own gun levelled on him by a man he would gladly never see for the rest of his life.

Brent Fulham's gaze was not on him for that moment as he looked down with an open mouth at the sight of his very much dead twin brother. His gaze was empty as he turned back to Hotch.

Time seemed to stretch between them before Brent turned and dashed away.

Hotch ignored the pain as he sprung up, chasing after the man who was heading in the same direction Clint Fulham had tried his very best not to look at before. He had almost caught up with him when the mad man took the stairs downstairs to the basement at two a pop.

A heavy door before them, Hotch found the last of his energy and burst forward, slamming into Brent's back as they both slammed into the door.

* * *

When the next sound was the door flying open, Jack screamed and Emily attempted a defensive pose as she sobbed in pain.

That was until she realised it was Aaron slamming the door shut. She saw him pick up the discarded piece of metal on the floor and slam it into the hoops, picking up the metal drum and putting it in front of the door as Jack ran from her.

There was a bang as another body slammed against the door on the other side, but it held.

Jack didn't want to be held as his father turned to him. Instead, he grasped his hand and pulled him into the dull lit corner. 'Emily's having the baby!' he cried.

Hotch dashed over, seeking out Emily in the fast fading light. He knelt down before her, pressing a hard kiss to her sweaty forehead.

'You're here,' she sobbed, her words becoming a scream as she gripped his shoulder. 'The baby's coming.'

Hotch snapped into action. He removed his suit jacket and handed it to his nervous son, Jack bouncing on his two small feet as he tried to figure out what to do to help.

Nudging Emily back against the wall, he removed her damp leggings as she panted and screamed. It was a constant noise as he fought to pull the material free. There was no time for thinking, and like it or not, he was going to have to deliver his child.

And from what he could see, the baby was going to come soon.

'I want to push,' sobbed Emily, her nails digging into his shoulder.

And push she did.

The head was crowning when they heard a gunshot. The implications were pushed aside for later thought as Emily's drawn out scream coincided with a final push and the squalling baby slipped free into Hotch's hands.

He was still for a second, his eyes on the red squirming newborn in his arms, umbilical cord still attached. Raising his eyes to Emily, he grew concerned when he saw her slouching against the wall, not making a sound.

Carefully balancing his new child in his lap, his urgency was apparent as he pulled his white shirt free. Wrapping the baby up in his shirt, he ordered the anxious boy still bouncing on the spot over. As Jack obediently took a seat next to him, crossing his legs, he placed the baby in his son's arms, automatically placing his limbs right as fear took hold of him.

The baby began to whimper, but Jack looked every inch the seasoned professional as he ran a finger down her wet check. 'Ssh, little baby.'

Knowing the baby was safe for the moment, Aaron Hotchner turned his full attention to Emily. 'Em!' he cried, shaking her shoulders when she failed to respond. 'Emily!'

* * *

_Next Chapter:_ Walking down the halls at the hospital...


	23. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

Walking down the hall on the third floor of the hospital, Hotch held onto his son tightly. The bandage covering the shallow stab wound on his right shoulder did little to cover the actual pain, but he ignored it.

He didn't know what he would do if he'd lost Emily or their child. He wasn't sure he could survive losing another person he loved.

She had regained consciousness seconds before the cellar door had smashed open and the ambulance officers arrived. But then they had both been whisked away and the other ambos had refused to let him go with her, intent on checking out his own injuries.

Confused as to why his baby sister was now taken from him, and with flashing lights and people everywhere, Jack had refused to let go of him. The team had rallied around in support, but his mind had been intent on only one thing.

Safe with the knowledge that they were interviewing the remaining Fulham twin now, and with Jack firmly planted on his left hip, Aaron Hotchner continued to walk.

* * *

Morgan stood before Brent Fulham. Crossing his arms across his chest, he looked at the man wordlessly.

It didn't take long for their unsub to grow uncomfortable with the silence, shifting in his seat as he looked around the room. 'You need to let me out,' he said earnestly minutes later.

'Why would we do that?' asked Morgan, trying to establish a rapport whilst pushing down his ambivalent feelings.

'My son needs me,' said Brent. 'He's just a baby. I can't be away from him long.'

Morgan planted his hands on the desk in front of the unsub, his palms hitting the plastic with a loud thwack. His gaze was angry as he looked at the man who would have killed his friend to fulfil his fantasy. 'The baby is _not _yours.'

* * *

Down in her basement lair, Penelope Garcia was frowning at her computer screens. In her eagerness to search for Clint Fulham, she had missed a sealed file of Brent Fulham's. The sealed record was open in seconds and her jaw dropped.

Her finger was already hitting speed dial as her eyes never left the screen. With no one picking up the phone, she hit print, grabbed the paper and dashed out of her room.

She was out of breath as she pulled open the door into the room behind the interview mirror. Both Rossi and Reid turned startled at her sudden arrival. She flapped a piece of paper in the air. 'Guys? I know why they wanted Emily's baby.'

* * *

Rossi slipped into the interview room.

Morgan backed away and accepted the paper handed to him as Rossi put on his announcement face and looked at Brent Fulham. 'You'll be pleased to know that Emily Prentiss gave birth to a baby girl.'

'What are you talking about?' the man asked in confusion. 'I have a boy. Clint got him from the hospital for me.'

'Correction, you _had _a boy.'

'What?'

Morgan looked up from the paper. 'Your son was born three months ago Mr Fulham,' said the dark skinned agent in a hard tone. 'He was stillborn.'

* * *

As Brent Fulham was led away by security, still muttering about how it could not be, the technical analyst turned to the young genius behind the mirror. 'Was Emily always the target?' asked Garcia in a small voice.

'Honestly, I don't think so,' said Reid. 'I think it was Clint taking control of fortuitous circumstances. Hotch leaving the hospital must have prompted him to follow and he saw an opportunity to take Emily's baby and pretend it was his brother's dead son.'

'Let's not tell him that, hmm?' said Rossi stepping in the door. 'He's having a hard enough time coping without needing to know that him leaving for Jack's school day was the most likely reason Emily was abducted.'

Morgan nodded in agreement. 'Let's get to the hospital.'

* * *

When her door opened, Emily Prentiss sat reclined on the hospital bed. In her arms, wrapped in a pink blanket, was a newly fed and settled baby. Her breath hitched before she realised who was standing there. She smiled tiredly at the new arrivals as Jack wriggled in his father's grasp, wanting to be put down.

The impatient boy bounded for the bed, his intention clear. With a warning of 'careful', Jack tried his best to see his baby sister, but the bed was too high. Emily rearranged the sleeping baby in her arms so he could see better as Hotch lifted his son higher.

As Jack fawned and she winced in pain at moving, Hotch pulled his son back instantly. 'Are you okay?' he asked in concern.

'I'll be fine Aaron,' she reassured him, gathering her breath again. 'It's fine.'

* * *

Jessica arrived next or rather, she burst in next.

'I'm so sorry,' she apologised profusely, her eyes shifting from where Emily lay dozing on the hospital bed to where Aaron sat on the chair nearby, Jack in his arms, as if trying to decide who she owed the biggest apology to.

It was Emily who spoke first. 'It's not your fault Jessica,' she tried to reassure her, easing up gingerly to be seated more upright.

It was on the tip of the distraught woman's lips to ask how she was, how the baby was, and how her nephew was, but Jack answered the question for her when he looked up with a huge grin on his face. 'Look Aunty Jess! I have a sister.'

It's only now that Jessica can see that Aaron and Jack aren't alone. There, cradled in the big and little hands of both Hotchner boys, was a baby.

Jessica was not the only one with tears in her eyes as she stepped forward to get a better look. 'I see you do,' she said, her voice choking up as she looked down at the sleeping newborn held so carefully in their arms. 'What's her name?'

'Ava,' piped up Jack and his excitement was apparent.

'Ava Mairead Hotchner,' expanded Hotch in his deep voice.

* * *

Later on, after the team had come and gone in a long line, and repeated attempts at getting Jack to go home with his aunt had failed, Emily rested her head against the shoulder she was using as a pillow, struggling to stifle her yawn.

'I'm so sorry you had to go through all of this again,' she said softly.

'_You're _sorry?' Hotch asked incredulously, even as he carefully pulled her closer.

'Jack's seen far too much in such a short life,' she said. She felt the shudder run through her partner before he answered. 'I just hope we get through it this time.'

'Looks like we've got the best medicine,' she said with a yawn as she nodded to where Ava was wrapped up tightly in the bassinette, Jack peering in.

As Hotch pressed a kiss to the top of Emily's head, the voice of Jack speaking to his hours old baby sister could be heard. '... and then he went away, but the bad man didn't come back again.'

The little boy nodded his head for effect. 'Nobody beats Daddy.'

* * *

_Next Chapter:_ Epilogue.


	24. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

It was the first anniversary of Hailey's death.

Emily Hotchner stood outside Jack's school, rocking the pram that held the sleeping Ava backwards and forwards. As she did so, her eyes were distracted by the sun glinting off her ring.

After her daughter was born, Ambassador Prentiss had visited and demanded to know when she was going to be married, horrified that she was not already so. She'd thought that Hotch hadn't wanted to ask because of Hailey, and he had thought she didn't want to be asked just because she had given birth to his child.

After spending far too much time worrying about the response of the other, they'd finally gotten it into their heads that they both did very much want to marry the other, and had been wed in a small ceremony five weeks earlier.

Her reflection was interrupted when the school bell sounded and Jack came sprinting out of his class. As he headed straight for them, she was inwardly relieved. Jack had been in a strange mood this morning, his sadness at the anniversary of his mother's death not helped by the fact that Hotch was stuck out of state on a case that should have taken 24 hours, but was stretching out to three days.

She was ignored as he thrust his head into the pram to find his sister.

Ava startled awake, but she didn't cry. If it had been anyone else, the four month old baby would not have been impressed and promptly cried, but with her brother, she never did.

Well used to being ignored in favour of Ava, she pressed a kiss to her stepson's head. It had been a sombre boy at breakfast, but it looked like going to school had been the right decision after a long chat with his father.

Smiling as another parent passed her by, she hooked Jack's bag onto the pram. 'You ready?' she asked softly when he finally turned to her.

She saw the light in his eyes dim a little. 'Yeah. Is Daddy coming?' asked Jack, and she could sense the hope in his voice.

'He's trying his very best,' said Emily, biting her bottom lip.

'Oh, okay,' said Jack, dragging the words out as he turned away and they walked to the car.

Slipping Ava into the baby seat and strapping her up as Jack strapped himself in, she then collapsed the pram with a skill she'd quickly picked up these past few months. Starting the car, she backed out carefully. They were going for a visit.

To the cemetery.

* * *

Why couldn't serial killers and their copycats be considerate for once, Hotch thought darkly to himself. Let them turn themselves in for once, and let him be home for the anniversary of the death of his child's mother.

He was unknowingly twisting his wedding ring as he took a seat on the plane next to the window. He was brooding as he looked out.

The team flicked concerned looks in his direction, but on the whole, they let him be.

When the plane landed, Hotch was the first person off the plane. Sparing a glance to his watch, he hitched his go bag up onto his shoulder.

'Hotch, they've probably gone home man,' called Morgan after the determined man marching across the tarmac to the black SUV.

'No, they haven't,' said Hotch as he reached his car. Slamming the door, he nodded to his fellow agent. 'I'll see you tomorrow.'

* * *

They'd been at the cemetery for an hour, Jack talking quietly to the headstone. She was sitting on the bench, nursing Ava when Jack rose and approached her. When he took a seat next to her, she gave him her full attention. 'Do you want to go and come back later?' asked Emily softly.

'No,' said Jack, shaking his head stubbornly. 'Daddy will come.'

'Okay.'

Jack sat on the bench, his legs swinging as he waited. And waited.

The sun was beginning to set when a car could be heard pulling up into the carpark. Emily smiled wanly as she struggled to see if the new arrival was in fact Aaron or not. Jack, certain it was his father, leaped off the bench and began running.

Hotch had removed his tie and was loosening the top buttons of his shirt as he walked briskly up the path. His face was blank as he bent down and smoothly swung Jack up into his arms. He hugged him tight, pressing a kiss to the side of his head as he made his way over.

He exchanged a tight look with Emily before he knelt down in front of the headstone with his son. With Jack standing in front of him, back against his chest, they both spoke quietly to each other as Emily stayed back, jostling Ava in her arms.

* * *

When Jack moved away from him, Hotch stood up and looked down at the engraved name of his first wife on the headstone.

It was a painful reminder why he did his job.

He startled when he felt Emily stand next to him. Reaching out, he drew her closer to him. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he took a soothing breath as his wife wrapped her arms around his body. 'Thank you,' he said simply. Emily squeezed him in response.

Behind the couple, a wide-eyed Ava lifted up a hand to her brother. Jack wrapped his bigger hand around his sister's as he peered into the pram. The little boy was sombre as he looked down at the baby. 'I'll look after you Adie, just like Mummy and Daddy,' promised Jack. 'Nothing bad will ever happen to you.'

Ava Hotchner thrust her other hand into her mouth, as if understanding everything her brother had said. Jack Hotchner backed away when his father leaned over him and rested a brief hand on the baby girl's chest. Aaron Hotchner swung his son up into his arms next as Emily Hotchner manoeuvred the pram.

As the sun set, the departing Hotchner family were ready to face another year.

* * *

_Finito. _


End file.
